#( being here has taught me that i apparently like to ramble but i had muse to write something miserable so *shrugs* )

[idxchanyeol-blog]

snake oil and holy water

in which chanyeol tries to come to terms with the idea that his success was bought, not earned

character development prompt:  detail the shittiest moment of your career (+5XP)

To say that Chanyeol’s career thus far had been turbulent would be an understatement of mammoth proportions.   A true rollercoaster ride: his time with Poizn has seen soaring highs and crushing lows, winding loops and sudden turns in the track, thrill and terror in equal measure. And much like a rollercoaster, whenever they pull into a station for a moments reprieve and the adrenaline begins to fade, he’s left with a feeling of overwhelming sickness and regret.

The worst moment of his career (To date, at least) comes before he’s even stepped out on stage with his members. Before the group cement their reputation as a magnet for scandal. Before the downward spiral that sees him lash out at the fansign. Before his transformation into the hardened cynic of today.

The lowest moment of his career is spent alone in the dorms, plagued by worries that it’s all over before it’s even begun.

Before the fall comes the rise.

He’d always had concerns about company tampering during his time on the survival. On reflection it had been foolish, no, downright idiotic, to have not seen the signs. But pride has always been his downfall, and every victory was another victory with which to feed it. Every round he won, every rung of the ladder he climbed served only to inflate his ego which would in turn blind him to the harsh reality.

Or perhaps he did see the signs, and chose to turn a blind eye. A self-serving wilful ignorance. Selfishness is a trait that runs in the Kang family genes, so it’s not unthinkable that he simply pushed the questions to the back of his mind. Survival shows are cut-throat, and it’s as valid a tactic as any other. It holds less honour, sure, but it works. It sees him consistently on the top of the pile when he should be buried deep underground. He chooses to believe that he was always in the dark and not peeking through the curtain, but perhaps he’s more like his parents than he’d care to believe.

In truth it doesn’t matter what he knew. Regardless of how, he found himself crowned winner and for the briefest of moments was on top of the world. Finally, the recognition he’s so craved all his life. It’s a matter of days before he’s tumbling from the peak into freefall, recognition and admiration morphing into resentment and apathy. The cat is out of the bag.

To begin with he dismisses the chatter as idle gossip; rumours dreamed up by slighted fangirls angry that he’s beaten their favourites. Give it a week and it’ll stop, he’s reassured, they’ll move on to something else. They seemingly never do.  A week passes and the noise only intensifies, the alleged corruption that led to his win an albatross draped around his neck. With each passing day it gets heavily, the scrutiny intensifying. He’s yet to even debut and already the name on everyone’s lips.

This isn’t what he wanted though. 99 Entertainment was supposed to be an escape route. A training ground where he could forge his own path through sheer grit and willpower, not buy his way to the top. And yet all they are is incompetent. The story doesn’t die, it only spreads. An open wound left to fester, the poison slowly spreading and corrupting public opinion. Why it isn’t nipped in the bud immediately remains an unsolved mystery; perhaps they didn’t know just how toxic it was, or believed the patently untrue proverb that all publicity is good publicity, or that they would be proved wrong by his talent and stunned into silence once he returned to the stage with Poizn. Or, perhaps most likely, they were simply to inept to catch it before it spiralled.

Either way, by the time he’s pulled aside there’s no hope of clawing it back. Damage control is the only viable option. There’s truth to the rumours, he’s told, but he’s not to address them. To do so would be breach of contract. The voice that tells him is strained with stress. “We’re figuring out how best to handle this. All options are on the table right now. Including possibly removing you from the line-up to limit the blast. We thought that you should know.” He simply nods and walks away.

As he slowly shuffles back to the dorms his mind is racing, a thousand voices thundering inside his head. The glacial pace is deliberate as he tries to order them, each second a new barrage of questions raining down. Why did they do it? How much was I worth? Was any of the success actually mine? A few more steps. Was everyone else in on it? Did my competition throw it deliberately? What am I supposed to do with this information? A few more steps. What are my members going to think of me? Am I the only one? How does this impact them? A few more steps.

Was I not good enough? Am I not good enough?

By the time the door swings open he’s drained. Empty. Numb. The empty silence of the room roars as he crosses the threshold. A glance around confirms that nobody else is around. On a normal day he’d be curious about their whereabouts, furious that he’d not been informed or invited along, but now he’s grateful for the solitude. A bag is thrown aside carelessly as uneven footsteps echo through the room. He perches on the foot of his bed gently, eyes fixed on the carpet underfoot.

Chanyeol has known anger. Chanyeol has known sadness. Chanyeol has known disappointment. He hasn’t known whatever this is. It makes his stomach feel tight, as if he’s going to vomit at any moment, head spin like a concussion and lungs smaller than the breaths he’s taking in. Every negative emotion you’d care to name bubbles away inside him, a cocktail of melancholy.

And he feels dirty. Like he’s been used and discarded, a broken toy thrown across the room by the child who’s smashed him to pieces. His skin crawls with disgust, regret overcoming him. Why had he decided to do this? To sign his soul away to the devil on nothing more than a whim? To flee the haunted house of his family? The very ghosts he’s been trying to escape have followed him, and no matter how far he seems to run the shadow always stretches further.

Time passes. How much, he doesn’t know. Seconds feel like minutes, minutes like hours and hours like days. He sits there, despondent and wordless. The first time he can recall not knowing what to say. Eventually he rises, carves a path towards the bathroom. A click confirms that the door is locked, that he is guaranteed some privacy. The hiss and patter of water from the showerhead confirms that he won’t be heard by anyone who returns. Clothes are discarded messily in a pile in the corner before he steps under the hot stream.

Crying in the shower to hide your tears is a cliché. But it’s a cliché that Chanyeol embraces with open arms. As soon as water hits his skin the floodgates open. A single ugly sob followed by silent weeping with eyes sown shut. His shoulders are hunched, breathing heavy as he lets go. Such displays of weakness are rare, but when they happen, they are guaranteed to be spectacular.

From this day forwards, he thinks, he’ll have the same reputation as his parents. There a problem? Throw money at it until it goes away. The very stigma he’s come so far to avoid now hanging over him for the rest of time. They’ll be so proud. He should have done better. If he’d done better, nobody would have asked questions about his win. Or they wouldn’t have cared at least. The company should have trusted him, not made shady deals behind his back and then prepare to throw him under the bus because they’ve left a scandal of their own creation to escalate out of control.

Sadness turns into anger. A plastic bottle is grabbed, launched across the room at full force. Just as the dull thud-thud of contact with wall then floor chimes out, an arm sweeps across the rest viciously and sends them clattering. And then a shout, primal fury that needs to be unleashed, followed by a fist to the tile guaranteeing his knuckles purple. The soft side of his hand hits in time with sobs as he slowly lowers himself to settle amongst the bottles, hugging his legs in tight and trying to regain control of his breathing.

The dream is dead. It was fun while it lasted.

Time passes. He still doesn’t know how much, but by the time he emerges his skin is pruned and the light from outside the windows has faded. The room is no longer unoccupied, and as he saunters back towards his bed wordlessly a flurry of concerned and inquisitive looks are thrown at him. “Not tonight.” Is all he manages as he lays back expressionless, too emotionally drained to even begin to explain.

As should be obvious, the talk of the dreams’ demise were greatly exaggerated. The situation was never dire enough to warrant his removal and the scandals that plagued his members proved to be a blessing in disguise, watering down the controversy and taking the heat off of him before he has a chance to make the rash decision to buy out his contract. It takes some time, but eventually he returns to his normal self, goes on as if nothing has happened and nods along with whatever the company says like the good little dog he is.

Vindictiveness is a defining trait though, and he’s never truly forgiven those involved for almost ruining him to achieve their own ambitions. Or indeed himself for believing his own hype and almost winding up buried because of it.

[sellyoursoulforagoodfic]

Monstrous Secrets Chapter 8

Eris Vanserra x reader

Word Count: 1720

Summary: You and a couple of the guys have a heart-to-heart

You were home, or rather, you were in the physical place where you lived. It was difficult to call Velaris ‘home’ when your home was really a person, your mate. It was even harder to call this place home since Azriel started looking at you like he wanted to spit on you at any given moment. You’d expected to be treated that way once everything came to light, but that didn’t mean that you didn’t loathe it with every fiber of your being.

It was in a fit of this general discontent that you found yourself sitting on the ground of the balcony outside the House of Wind’s library. A bottle of wine, half empty already based on the weight of it, dangled from your fingertips as you stared blankly into the fire and longed for the male that could make such flames dance like sprites. Eris’s notes from your time apart rested on the ground before you, some resting against or on your leg because you’d simply dropped them after reading.

“Cass told me I’d find you here,” Rhys said as his feet entered your field of view. “Though I’ll admit I thought he was exaggerating how much you’d been drinking.”

Your eyes darted over to the other two, empty bottles you’d abandoned back when you’d been sitting in a chair. “Yes, well, you know how my tolerance is.”

“Considering how many men you’ve drunk under the table? Yes, I’m fully aware.” Now, he brought himself low enough that he could meet your eye on your own level. The most powerful High Lord, kneeling beside his low fae cousin on the ground.

You snorted at the sheer ridiculousness. “Whatcha doing here, Rhys? I figured you’d be off with Feyre.”

“She had things to discuss with Amren or else she’d be here talking to you with me.”

You took another drink. “Well in that case, lay it on me.” Your arms spread wide dramatically, one hand holding the bottle, the other a letter; your wings flared slightly behind you in an effort to keep you balanced. “Ask me anything you want! I assume it’s about that gorgeous mate of mine.”

He rolled his eyes and took the bottle from you. “I won’t insult you bya skiing what Azriel wants me to.” Rhysand took a long drink.

“Oooooh, let me guess!” You did your best to make your face as stoic as the shadowsinger’s. “Have I been selling secrets to the Autumn Court?”

“Close,” he snickered. “Has she been giving away secrets to the Autumn Court?”

You scoffed. “As if I’d give them away for free!” 

“Sweetheart, you’d never spill them either way.” His eyes were somber, caring. “You would never betray us like that, so I have no need to ask.”

“Then what do you need to ask?”

“First, I want to ask about your bargain.”

“You makin’ sure I didn’t give away anything important?”

“I want to know that it was your choice to make whatever deal it was.”

Your brain stalled out in light of his genuine concern after so many days of people being wary of you, and your buzz fizzled a little because of it. “It was a deal of protection,” you explained seriously. “He’ll watch my back as long as I watch his sort of thing.” You stole back the bottle to take another drink. “And what a fucking job I did.”

“You couldn’t have done anything against her,” he assured you, “and if you had tried, more likely than not, you’d both be dead right now.”

“Whatever, Rhys,” you scoffed. “What else?”

“You are not less than him because you’re Illyrian.” You’d known the topic was coming, but you didn’t expect him to be quite so blunt. “And if he treats you like you are, I’ll kill him myself.”

“Then you can stop worrying, because he doesn’t. Hasn’t even said anything to imply it--get that look off your face right now. Anything he said to you was an act because we were backed into a nightmare of a corner, and you know it. Anyway, he hasn't made any jabs implying it--accidentally or otherwise--since we first got together.”

“Put a stop to that, did you?” He was smirking as he swiped the bottle back to drink once again. 

“Of course.” You hesitated. “But he and I are both aware of what others will think; just look at your parents. That’s why, or at least part of why, we kept quiet about the whole thing.”

Rhysand was nodding as if pleased.

“That all you’ve got, cousin?”

A little snort escaped his nose. “As far as being concerned goes, we’ll say yes for now.”

“And as far as everything else?”

“Since you’ve so cruelly left your poor cousin in the dark about your relationship for--how long was it again?”

“‘Bout five hundred years--”

“Five hundred years! Because you've left me in the dark for so long, I want to know everything about the two of you.”

“Everything?”

“Everything.” He waved a hand a little. “That you’re willing to share, of course.”

“Rhys . . . I don’t  . . .” You weren’t used to this. You’d never had to share anything about your relationship before. You weren’t good at talking about yourself. “I don’t know where to start.”

A low hum rumbled through the air along with the telling thuds of someone else’s boots.

“Why don’t you start with that letter you’re holding?” Cassian abruptly dropped down next to you, so close he was lightly pressed against your side. It was such a casual closeness that the pair of you had had for centuries, and you didn't realize how much you loved it until it was missing. Its presence now brought tears to your eyes, but none fell.

Blinking them back, you stammered, “Um. It’s how we talked . . . when we couldn’t see each other.” A self-deprecating chuckle ripped its way up from your throat. “Apparently he’d been sending them since just after Amarantha, and I never knew since I don’t live down there anymore. I’m only just now getting around to reading them.” Carelessly, you handed it over to Cassian. “You can read it if you want; I was going through them all, but I can’t exactly see straight enough to read anymore.”

He eyed you warily before opening it gently. Clearing his throat before he read,

“I hope you are doing well, and I hope moreso that you have not finally come to your senses and decided to leave me. I’ve been trying to keep my emotions from bothering you in case you have, but Father has proven to be harsher than ever before in light of everything that has happened over the last half-century. It’s all I can do to keep him from deciding to hunt down Lucien.

Cauldron, I don’t even know if you’re receiving these messages or if you even care and yet here I am droning on about my own problems. I’ll leave this here, then.

I miss you, and I love you always,

Eris”

Both men were silent for a breath.

“Who would have thought that Eris Vanserra of all people would be so rambling in a letter?” Cassian eventually teased--only slightly awkwardly--to break the quiet.

“He stopped trying to be eloquent in our notes about five years in.” Your buzz was definitely on the way out now, and you found yourself listlessly leaning against Cassian. Neither male commented about the more romantic sentiments in the letter. You wondered why that was. For your privacy or their own comfort so they didn’t have to think about the fact that Eris did in fact have feelings.

“What’s the first thing you think of when you think about him?” Rhysand prompted quietly, obviously wanting to know more about the relationship despite the awkward aura that’d descended upon the little group.

It may have been because you were actively looking at a fire, but you didn’t really have to think about the words that came tumbling out of your mouth. “Did you know that he can make shapes out of flames? He used to make little dogs and foxes to play with Lucien when Beron would upset him.”

“I thought he hated that kid,” Cassian mused.

“He had to keep his distance to keep Beron’s attention away from him; he swore to his mother that he’d protect him.”

“What else comes to mind?”

You swallowed thickly. “He interrogated me about how to care for my wings when I showed up injured once.”

Rhys’s violet eyes flashed. “Injured?”

“Took a bad crash through some trees on the way to see him; I think I was dodging some scouts. Either way, he hounded me about it until I taught him all I could.”

“Seriously?” Cassian again.

“Yeah.” You could feel the dopey smile spread across your face, but you didn’t want to stop it. “Cleaning, first-aid, the whole deal. And the best part? He never has cold hands.”

“Unlike you, huh?” Rhys teased. “Nothing but cold hands.”

“Truer words never spoken,” and unexpected but familiar voice said from behind you.

As soon as you laid eyes on him, you were stumbling to your feet.

There was a warmth in his eyes that had nothing to do with flames when he caught you and pulled you close.

Immediately, you buried your face in his neck. “How?” you whispered into the pale skin there.

Eris’s hand moved to rest atop your wing where it was tucked against your back, sending a delightful shiver down your spine. “That would be a question for your High Lady.”

You glanced over your shoulder and saw that, sure enough, Feyre was now holding hands with the now-standing Rhys. “I thought you were with Amren?”

“I lied,” Rhys shrugged. “Eris was down there plotting with Keir, so I asked her to go grab him for you since you’ve been feeling down.”

When tears started welling up in your eyes, you blamed the alcohol. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you, little cousin. Now, I think it’s time for us to turn in.” His eyes shifted to look at your mate; surprisingly his gaze wasn’t near as icy as you would have expected. “Take care of her.”

“Until my dying breath.”

“Never a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’ with you people,” Cassian scoffed, “is there?”

You smirked on behalf of your husband. “Never.”

[frostsinth]

Royal Flush - Pt. 11

Part 1|2|3|4|5|6|7|8|9|10 - MasterList - Art - Art - Art - Art - Art - Art - Art - Art - ... Art (can’t stop me… #obsessed)

Ok, so this is a very long update, but I didn’t want to cut ANY of it. But I really hope you will enjoy. Also, I think there will be 13/14 parts. Not 12. The boys are apparently not done with me yet!! And Morgana MAY have highjacked herself another chapter.

Also, also... I’m sorry about the end.

Comments and Reblogs give me life! The next part is already mostly written out, so if I have enjoy interest I’ll post it early. Want to commission your own piece? DM me for details! Check out my Masterlist above for more of my inane/insane ramblings, and please feel free to BuyMeACoffee while you are there!

I have an Alternative 10 page Part 11 that Immediately follows the events of last chapter available for purchase on BuyMeACoffee (which you can access through my Masterlist). There are only 10 copies available right now, so get them before they are gone. OH! And did I mention its NSFW? That piece is set in an alternative timeline, where Grier and Nikostratus.... well, I guess you’d just have to buy it to see. However, it is not a canon part of this story. Just an alternative spin the story could have taken.

All the best!

“Niko, Niko, Niko, NIKO!” Morgan half-sang, half shouted, punctuating each repetition of my name with a bounce on the bed. “Niko! NIKO!”

I sighed groggily, cracking open an eye and looking over at her. She reached across the bed, placing both hands on my shoulder and giving me a solid shake.

“Niko! The sun’s finally up!” She declared, then crawled closer to better shake me. “It’s morning! I slept! Can I go explore the castle now?” I started to yawn, and she bounced up and down impatiently. “Come ON, Niko! Get up!! Get up!”

“Alright, alright, little chickadee. I’m up.” I yawned again. “I’m up.”

I rubbed a hand across my face, slowly tugging myself into a sitting position. My whole body felt heavy and drained, as if I had spent the previous day climbing a mountain. It took me longer than usual to shake the grogginess from my head, and I lingered with my fingers pinching the bridge of my nose. The sun’s rays were slowly filtering in through the large windows beside the bed. Reaching sparkling tendrils of light towards us. Seeing that I was officially awake, Morgana bounded from the bed and skittered barefoot across the floor over to the clear glass. I swore she was almost vibrating with excitement, and pressed her face against it to peer out.

“Can we go outside? Are goblins awake during the day, or are they only up at night? Are there a lot of goblins?” She gushed, dancing from foot to foot before running back to the bed.

I ran my hand over the back of my head, then down to my neck, stretching my sore muscles, nodding slowly. “We can go outside, I’m sure. Goblins sleep at night too. And yes, there’s a lot of them.”

She tugged at my wrist as I swung my legs out of the bed, and I stood at her insistence. “What do you do all day? Do you run the city? Do you hold audiences?”

“I train with the General in the mornings.” I told her, stretching again now that I was standing. “And the King has been letting me shadow him, so I can learn more about the Kingdom. And I’ve been learning goblinese.” I tugged a fresh tunic over my head.

“Goblinese??”

I nodded, noticing a trunk in the foyer and guessing that some of the attendants must have brought it in last night while we were distracted. I padded my way over and started picking through her clothes before tossing her a fresh dress.

“That’s what goblins speak. Not all of them know Common.”

“Can I learn goblinese?” She asked eagerly.

I shrugged. “I don’t see why not. Wash up and get dressed.”

There was a knock as I directed her to the bathing room. I closed the door behind her, leaving it propped a tiny crack, before I headed back to the foyer to the one leading out to the hall. My heart skipped as a memory of soft green lips came unbidden to my mind. I quickly reminded myself that Grier would never be up this early, unless he had simply never gone to bed the day before. And cool beads of dread dripped down the back of my neck as I remembered what he had said…. “But I would like to speak more about… …. About everything.”  Everything. What was... everything? I swallowed hard, brushing the notion from my head as best I could.

Still, my hand shook a little as I tugged the door open. I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or disappointed that Seoc stood in the hall instead. He offered me a quick bow.

“Good morning, Your Highness.”

“Good morning, Seoc,” I replied cordially, nodding to him and hiding my nervousness well, “I hope everything is alright?”

He smiled up at me. “Of course, Your Highness. My apologies for the intrusion.” He dipped his head lightly again. “General Damjan sent word. He is curious if you will still be joining him his morning.”

I considered that, glancing over as the door to the bathing room opened. Morgana scuttled over, freshly dressed and eyes curious, quickly tucking herself at my side and peeking around the door. Seoc’s own eyes dropped to her, and he gave a friendly smile, bowing lightly.

“Princess.” He greeted her cheerily.

She looked between me and him, then tugged on my shirt subtly. I supposed she might be surprised. Wondering who Seoc was to be speaking to her without having first been spoken to. Not that she minded, I knew. Likely she was estatic. She just didn’t know how to react to it. I was again reminded how different customs were between the two kingdoms. I instinctually dropped a hand to her shoulder, reassuring her as she shifted from foot to foot.

“I assume the King is not up yet?” I asked him, trying to sound as matter-of-fact as possible.

He hid a small smirk, as if amused by the thought of the King being up at any decent morning hour. “Not yet, Your Highness.” He cocked his head to the side and his big ears flopped. I saw Morgana’s eyes widen with delight. “Would you like me to have breakfast brought up for you?”

“What do you think then, Princess?” I mused, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Would you like to go to the training grounds with me? Or are you hungry?”

She looked between me and Seoc again for another quiet moment, her eyes still wide with wonder. “... I could go with you?” She asked timidly, her voice softer than usual, “Do you fight with the goblins?”

“Of course, you can. And we spar; only for training and exercise purposes.” I assured her. Then nodded to Seoc. “Perhaps the General would be willing to show the Princess and I around the grounds? In lieu of our usual match.”

“I can send word, Your Highness, if you would give me a moment.” He replied. “Then I can escort you down if you wish.” The goblin tilted his head to the side. “I am certain the King would enjoy sharing breakfast with you as well. Shall I let Lord Hibik know to inform us when he wakes?”

I stiffened a little, then gave a curt nod. “That is an excellent suggestion, Seoc... Let me fetch my boots while you send word, yes?”

“As you wish, Your Highness.”

A few minutes later we were off to meet Damjan. Morgana shyly hid in my shadow, tugging on my sleeve and whispering things to me. Despite that, and the innate joy I felt just to have her at my side, I couldn’t help but linger on what came later on after our tour…

….

Seoc bowed as he opened the door for us, stepping to the side to allow us to enter. Morgana kept a step behind me, alternating between peeking around my legs and hiding herself there. I knew it must be strange for her; she had been taught to stifle her curiosity and told to sit still for as long as she could remember, save with me. Surrounded by statues, and not allowed to ask questions or speak. Ignored, for the most part, as most children at Court were. But here, everyone smiled at her. Everyone greeted her, and when she forgot herself for a moment and asked a question, they were always eager to answer. She had never perfected her composure and mask as I had; but I still saw her struggle a little, as she tried to determine what was expected of her. It made my heart ache to see, and I was glad to have taken her as far away from that place as I could.

The small sitting room we entered was well lit, with a small crackling fire before the couch and armchairs sat before the knee-high dark wood table. I saw Morgana’s eyes skitter about, considering the cluttered décor and bright colors. My eyes settled much more quickly on the room’s occupants.

Grier sat on one end of the couch, shuffling grumpily through a few papers Hibik offered him. Perhaps it was my imagination, but I felt that he looked a fair bit more tired than usual, with dark circles around his eyes. At the sound of the door, his gaze flicked up. Meeting mine. My heart skipped and I resisted the urge swallow. Especially as those thin lips split into a small, wry smile.

“Ah, my favorite pair of royal siblings.” He exclaimed, glancing back at the papers once more before passing them to Hibik with a nod. “I trust you slept well?”

Morgana peeked around my leg curiously, and he offered her a smile. As he seemed to be speaking directly to her, she bowed her head lightly. “Good morning, Your Majesty. Thank you for your inquiry.” She replied formally.

Grier cocked one brow, standing slowly and waving Hibik out the door. “My, but the family resemblance is strong.” He replied dourly, tilting his head to the side. “There’s no need for that, Princess. You may always speak freely around me.”

Morgana glanced up at me, surprised and a little curious. I pushed her hair back out of her face, the corners of my mouth twitching. But I gave her a small nod, and she looked back at the King.

“... I can still call you ‘Grier’?” She asked shyly.

His smile returned. “Of course! I hope I can still call you ‘Morgana’, yes? And you can still ask me questions.” He beckoned us both deeper into the room. “Perhaps you can even help me convince Nikostratus to do so as well.” He told her with a wink.

A tiny smile lit her own lips as a flush prickled my cheeks at his words, and she glanced at me only once more before walking around to sit in one of the armchairs beside the table. I followed behind, pretending not to notice the goblin’s eyes following me as I did. I settled on the couch, and tried not to stiffen as he settled back in the seat at the opposite end. The couch was not nearly so long; his knees could almost brush mine when he turned to the side, as he did now. He reached out, flipping a cup and pouring some coffee into it. I peeked at him through my lashes as he offered it to me. Forcing myself not to quiver as our fingers brushed together when I took it from him.

“Please, help yourselves.” He told us, though his eyes never left mine. “I am sure you are hungry.”

“Thank you.” I replied softly, my voice barely above a murmur. I ran my thumb along the edge of my drink, but then raised it to take a slow sip. I wondered what he was thinking. I tried to look at him from the corners of my eyes, wondering if he would want to talk immediately. Or if I would have to suffer the dread of waiting even longer. It had been all I could think about for the previous few hours. I couldn’t fathom having whatever pending conversation he had planned in front of my sister, but couldn’t tell if he would take her presence in to consideration either.

“There are no forks!” Morgana exclaimed after a moment, bringing me back to the present. I turned to find her looking over the spread, and saw her glance up nervously.

“No, I suppose there are not.” Grier replied, amused, leaning back with his own cup.

She tilted her head to the side, slowly coming out of her shell again. “... How do you eat?”

The goblin smirked, taking a sip. “With our hands.” He tilted his head back to the side. “Do humans eat with their feet?” 

Her smile grew a little at his teasing. “No. But, we don’t touch food.” She looked over at me. “...We’re not supposed to touch the food. It gets our hands messy.”

The King ‘hmm’ed softly at that. “Goblin food is meant to be eaten with your hands.” Grier told her. “I suppose it must not be as messy as yours.” 

She looked back over the spread. Then back to me.

“Go ahead.” I encouraged her. “Try some. I think you’ll like it.”

She gingerly picked up a pastry, bringing it to her mouth to sniff. After the first bite, she was hooked, and I almost smiled as she quickly scarfed down the rest and went for another. She cast another nervous glance at both of us, but whenever neither of us looked particularly upset at her manners, she took another handful. I saw her little shoulders relax a little. The goblin picked up a morsel for himself, taking a solid bite and chewing thoughtfully for a moment.

“Would you like some tea?” He offered her, gesturing to the pot. “How did you find the castle this morning? I hope you got the chance to explore a little.”

“No, thank you.” She said politely, swallowing another mouthful. “We saw the training cliffs.” She glanced at him through her lashes, and he gave her an encouraging nod. Her smile started to spread wider across her lips. “You can see the mountains from there! It’s very cold... Is it always cold here? Do goblins get cold? Do you wear fur hats?”

Grier chewed thoughtfully. “I suppose it usually is quite cold, but inside the mountain we keep it nice and toasty so we don’t notice. And of course we get cold! We aren’t dragons.” He grinned at her. “And I have a few fur hats.”

She giggled, plucking up a new item to try, sniffing at it experimentally. Her hazel eyes flicked to me as she did.

“You need to eat too, Niko.” She reminded me, before looking over at Grier. “Niko doesn’t eat much.” She explained to him. “I think he forgets he’s hungry. It’s not good for him though! He’ll make himself sick.”

I blushed slightly, starting to open my mouth to reply. To my surprise, Grier chuckled. 

“I’ve noticed that.” His scarlet eyes flicked to me at their corners. “He won’t eat if he’s nervous… or flustered.” I felt my blush deepen as the goblin leaned forward, calling my sister’s attention to a tray of pastries in the center. “Do you see these? We call these uyapik. There’s different types for every meal. But each bite is like a whole plate of food in one.” He picked one up, holding it out to her. “It has vegetables, and meat, and often cheese. All in one neat little package.”

Her eyes filled with wonder as she took it from him. She took a bite, then nodded excitedly. “Oh, this is perfect! It’s so yummy!”

Grier grinned. “Even Nikostratus can usually manage to eat one or two of these. A single uyapi should have just about everything he needs.” My eyes widened slightly with the sudden realization of why the goblin pastry had become such a prominent feature through the duration of my stay. The King’s grin turned a little coy at the corners.

“Here, Niko,” She exclaimed, popping out of her seat and grabbing one in each hand, “These are yours.”

I fumbled with my cup to make space for them in my own hands before they fell on my lap. “Chickadee, I-”

“Do you always eat with him?” She asked Grier, ignoring me. “Do you goblins have lunch and dinner too?” She drew in a sharp breath, suddenly looking a little concerned. “Do you have desert??”

Grier nodded. “I try to eat with him for every meal. And yes, we have a midday meal and an evening meal.” His grin grew. “And of course we have desert. Nothing more important than that!”

Morgana giggled, leaning against my knees behind her and looking over the table again. She picked up something that looked like a hardboiled egg, though it was freckled with green spots. She seemed to think about that for a moment. “... Do goblins have weddings, too? When are you going to get married?”

I started to sputter something, and Grier chuckled again. “Our ceremonies are different than yours, but we do have ‘weddings’, so to speak.” His scarlet eyes flicked to me, and I nearly froze in place. “And I hope soon, though we still have to plan it.”

“Can I help? Will Niko be a King afterwards? Do goblins share rooms when they are married?” She tilted her head to the side. “Will you move in with him, or will he move in with you? Is your bed big enough? Niko is very tall.”

“N-now, hold on a second, chickadee,” I started, my face hotter than a furnace, “You can’t just-”

“Niko doesn’t like talking about this stuff.” She told Grier, ignoring me, leaving me sputtering and flushing darker. “This one time, I asked him about kissing, and he-”

I clapped my free hand over her mouth, shaking my head fervently as I felt my ears catch fire from embarrassment. “I-I think that that’s quite e-enough of that.” I mumbled, reaching out to place the remaining uyapi on the table and wrap my arm about her waist to hoist her to the side. As if hiding her from his view would assure the goblin forgot her words.

Grier laughed, which only served to make my flush spread down the back of my neck. “Well, I do believe she’s asked some very good questions, my young Prince.” He teased. “Very practical, your little bird is.”

I dropped my hand with a soft shout of disgust as she licked her tongue across my palm. Before I could catch her again, she darted around the other side of the table. Giggling excitedly. I wiped my hand on my pant leg and shot her a small scowl. Which only had the goblin laughing again. I stiffened at the sound.

“I-I apologize,” I started to stammer, working hard to find some semblance of my composure once more.

The King waved it away. “No apologies necessary.” He grinned at me. “I like seeing you like this.”

“Like what?” Asked Morgana curiously, darting a little closer to his side of the table.

His grin grew. “More relaxed. And of course, flustered.” I dropped my eyes to the floor quickly, unable to meet his. “I think it makes him look very cute.”

Morgana giggled again, sneaking around the other side of the couch. She had to practically jump over the back, but managed to wrap her arms around my shoulders with her feet dangling off the ground. I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye suspiciously.

“Niko! He thinks you’re cute!” She whispered conspiratorially in my ear. “You should say something nice back!”

I would have stood and attempted some excuse to bolt from the room had my sister not been currently so precariously wrapped about me. I stammered uselessly for a minute, which just made Grier laugh again and my ears burn. Could he hear her?

“Come on, Niko!” She urged. “... I know! Tell him you like his hair.”

“N-now, se-see here, you two.” I mumbled weakly, shaking my head. “Th-this… this is… Ah…”

“Perhaps we should let your brother be for a minute, yes?” Grier offered, his smirk still coyly twisted about his lips. “Elsewise he might just catch the couch on fire. Or forget how to breathe.” I felt Morgana’s arms loosen at his words, and wrung my hands nervously in front of me. “... Would you like to meet your potential Lady in Waiting now?” Grier continued, easily changing the subject. “I have a few noble ladies come to call to meet you.”

“Goblin ladies?” Morgana asked eagerly, slipping back around to the front of the couch. Her previous motives already forgotten in light of this new information.

The King chuckled. “Yes, of course. As I do believe the current population of humans in our Court is limited to this room at the moment.” He shifted in his seat. “You can meet them all, and if you like any of them, they can be your Lady.”

My sister picked up a uyapi, quickly finishing it off in two bites before picking up another pastry and stuffing that into her still chewing mouth as well. She turned back to me as she swallowed it.

“See, Niko? I ate! Can we go meet the goblins now?”

I tried to relax, swallowing hard and attempting to wrangle my swirling thoughts into some semblance of order. 

“Actually, Morgana,” Grier interrupted before I could voice whatever I had managed to compile, “Perhaps Hibik can take you to meet the young ladies.” I stiffened again, looking over at him. “They are just down the hall, and I’m not sure Nikostratus has eaten very much himself yet.” He cocked his head to the side. “Would that be alright?”

She nodded eagerly. “Oh, yeah. You’re right.” She turned back to me, pointing one scolding finger at my nose. My eyebrows shot up a little. “You need to eat. And you’d better have before I get back.” She warned.

“I beg your pardon-”

To my surprise, she then skipped in between us, picking up my hand and Grier’s. And pressed them together until they folded over each other. My mouth flapped uselessly as my face blazed.

“There.” She proclaimed, putting her hands on her hips and looking out our now entwined fingers. “That’s better.” She turned to Grier who looked a little surprised himself. “Make sure he eats, ok?”

As if on cue, Hibik opened the door with a knock, arms full of paperwork and a greeting on his lips. Morgana skipped around the couch to him.

“Lord Hibik, Grier says you’re to take me to see the goblin ladies,” She told him, and then started to dart out the door around him. “Let’s go!”

“Morgana-” I began exasperatedly, moving to stand, then froze as the King’s fingers suddenly tightened around mine.

“Hibik, if you would be so kind.” Grier instructed him, waving his free hand lightly.

His secretary looked between us, wide eyed, then quickly scrambled to close the door and follow after my sister. A few papers fluttered to the ground in his wake, forgotten in his haste.

My heart thudded in my chest and I stared numbly at the door for a long moment. Torn between Morgana no longer being in my sight and the heat slowly spreading down my neck as Grier kept our fingers firmly and stubbornly latched together. After a moment, I chanced a glance at our hands on the couch between us where she had left them.

“You know,” He finally said after an extended moment of silence, “I was originally under the impression that you were the primary caretaker for Morgana.” I straightened slightly at his words, and I could hear the grin lacing his next. “But now, I’m not entirely so sure it’s not the other way around.”

“Ah… She’s…” I mumbled, face still flaming. “She can be a bit… pushy.”

He chortled lightly. “She cares a lot about you. And I think she does an excellent job watching out for you. For a nine year old.” His voice became a little more somber suddenly. “... We spoke about you for a time, yesterday. Before you happened upon us.” I noticed him shift a little closer, and my legs tingled to stand. “... I’m afraid she might have told me a few secrets of yours after all.”

I swallowed hard, shifting in my seat. Trying to pretend I didn’t have any idea what he was talking about and still unable to meet his gaze. “O-oh?”

His thumb moved across my knuckles. “She gave me a little glimpse into your life before… all this…” The goblin slid even closer, and his other hand came up to cap ours. “... I didn’t get the impression it was a particularly happy life.”

“It’s unfortunate that she gave you that impression,” I replied after a breath, shrouding myself in a flat formality that was belittled by my unwillingness to meet his eyes, “However, I can assure you that…” I dropped off, “... That… umm…” I felt a strange numbness tingling through me, and realized I hadn’t the will to fabricate that particular lie. Especially to Grier. I glanced off to the side. “... It had its moments.”

“Most of them focused around your little bird, I would assume.”

I slipped my hand from his grasp, bringing it to clasp my other in my lap. I stared down at them for a moment. “... I-I… I am sure it is unimportant.”

“.... I was about Morgana’s age when my father died.” He told me quietly. “One day he was there and the next…” I peeked at him through my lashes, and saw him looking off at some distant spot. “... My mother ruled in his stead, and she made sure I had the freedom to… well, to be a child. To go on little adventures, and play, and have fun. She let me make friends with whomever I wanted... She didn’t hold me to adult standards of self control and etiquette. I didn’t have to make tough decisions that impacted the entire Kingdom, or be faced with those responsibilities. I didn’t even really know about them. She didn’t ask me to be a King or even a royal while I was still a kid…”

I looked at him, and my brow furrowed angrily. “I do not hold Morgana to adult standards.” I argued, my voice becoming terse. “I do not demand she sit still or quiet, nor do I lay any royal responsibilities on her shoulders-”

“I know.” He interrupted me before I could get too heated. 

As he dropped off, I tried to wrap my head around why then he had told me about his own childhood. What point he had been trying to make... And suddenly I knew it wasn’t Morgana he was talking about. A cold chill swept through me at the realization. I blinked at him stupidly, then shook my head. Looking away once more. A tense silence stretched between us for a long moment. Finally, I cleared my throat, shaking my head. Moving to speak. But nothing came out.

“I don’t mean to pry. It was just something I realized while I was speaking with your sister.” He continued, when I still hadn’t spoken. Then he sighed, and I saw his hand come up, pushing his hair back out of his face. “I’m… not sure if you would want to talk about it… but I’m here if you do.”

I chewed on my tongue for a moment, glancing over at the door. “... Talk about what, exactly?” I asked, and winced at the bitterness in my voice. “Talk about the King? Talk about... ‘all this seriousness’?” I felt a numbness spreading through my chest, and my eyes became unseeing. “...Talk about my mother? … What good would it do? Talking?” I sounded distant, even to my own ears, and painfully flat. “What does it change?” I shook my head once more, the sensation deadened by the numbness. “... I-I don’t… I don’t want to talk about it.”

He nodded quickly. “Ok…. That’s fine. I understand.” The goblin patted my knee gently. “It was callous of me to bring up… I apologize.”

Grier moved to stand, starting to withdraw his hand. I grabbed it suddenly, then winced. Releasing it almost as soon as I had, embarrassed. But he froze for a breath, before dropping back down. Sitting beside me once more. Slowly, he reached out, slipping his hand into mine. I didn’t move as he did, and stared at his fingers as he wiggled them between my own. Watched them curl around mine in my lap, felt his warmth seep into my palm. I hesitated, then slowly closed my own fingers.

“... I don’t want to talk about it... but…” I told him, my voice weak, and frayed. I hated the sound of it, and closed my mouth to trap it once more. I glanced down at our hands, and felt mine twitch in his grasp.

“I can stay.” He murmured softly, and his thumb ran back and forth over my own. “We can talk about something else…” The goblin hesitated, and I glanced at him. “... Morgana also said you went away for a while, but she didn’t know where. Only that you were… different when you came back.”

Instantly I stiffened. Remembering exactly what she had said regarding that time. My heart throbbed painfully in my chest. I started to pull my hand from his. Then… I stopped myself. Hesitating. Glancing back at our entwined fingers. My tongue felt too large for my mouth again. I felt him give my hand another gentle squeeze. I tried to take courage from it.

“... I went to the front lines.” I said, so quietly he had to lean forward to hear me.

He seemed to sense I didn’t particularly want to talk about that either. And thankfully let it be. Instead, we sat in silence for a moment, and he brought his free hand to trace small circles on the inside of my wrist. I slowly calmed my racing heart, and felt my breath become more steady.

“... Morgana will need a tutor.” I told him finally, my voice still quiet. Straying back into safer waters. “I-I am not sure how long she will be able to stay with us, but-”

“It’s not a problem.” He assured me, stroking my hand gently. “She can stay as long as she likes.” He chuckled lightly. “Which I hope is for a very long time... What did your brother mean though? ‘When it’s safe’?” He frowned. “Safe from what?”

I scowled, my heart rate jumping again. “... The King, in his wisdom, spoke of his plans to…” A bitter taste settled on my tongue, and I shook my head angrily. “... Valerianus and I feared for her welfare.”

Grier mirrored my scowl, and made a soft, disgusted noise. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like me to forcibly remove him from the throne?” He asked bitterly. “I would be only too happy to do so.” I shook my head distractedly, then stopped, a sinking feeling filling my throat. I glanced sidelong at the goblin, and he caught the look. “... What is it?”

“If…” I hesitated, stopping myself and staring down at our hands. A sudden fear filled me, a dread for the answer that I felt was forthcoming. It was the question I had been avoiding for almost the entire duration of my stay. My eyes darted to the door, as if we might be interrupted at any moment. “I-if I had not…” I took a steadying breath. “If I had not agreed to this…” I stopped again, my palms feeling clammy. I started to pull my hand out of his.

To my surprise, he latched on tightly to it. “I would never have accepted Morgana in your place.” He told me bluntly, and I winced at his words. The goblin, of course, had seen right through me. “I can’t even think of a child as...” His voice sounded disgusted even as he dropped off. Red eyes reached between us, and I met them nervously. “I wanted you. I’ve always wanted you.”

My heart lodged in my throat. “But you couldn’t have known I would-” I started to argue.

“I hoped.” He returned, cutting me off. “... And you forget…” I saw his slender eyebrows twitch. “I was winning the war… I didn’t need this peace.”

My eyes must have flashed with my anger, because I saw his expression quickly recoil from his teasing. “...And had I not agreed to marry you, you would have done... what exactly?” I asked tersely. “Finished the war? Destroyed our Kingdom?” I tried to pull my hand from his. “Would you have had my family and I beheaded or just banished?” My tone was mocking and sharp. “... Or would you have imprisoned me instead?”

“No! No, of course not!” He grabbed at my wrist as I wriggled my fingers free of his. “I just meant I wasn’t forced to take a partner. I could have waited.”

“So you forced my hand instead.” My voice was becoming colder by the minute. “We needed the peace. Our people were dying. Were suffering.” I used my opposite hand to tear his off my wrist. “This was all a game to you… It’s always just...” My voice broke a little, but I quickly scowled to conceal it. “You might have been able to wait. I did not have that luxury.”

I wasn’t sure why I bit so hard back at him. Maybe because he had picked at a scab I had tried to keep hidden away. Maybe because I felt vulnerable, with him prying at my childhood, and longed to find some sort of foothold. And found a strange strength and familiarity in the anger. But when I glanced up at his face, and saw the pain there… I winced. Suddenly feeling uncertain, and more vulnerable than before. I shook my head, giving into my urge to flee the turmoil raging inside me and standing quickly. I only took a few steps away though, and stood with my back to him. Facing the fireplace.

“I didn’t mean to… to force you into this…” He finally managed after a few tense breaths. “I tried to give you opportunities to change your mind… to choose a different path... to… to wait, as I could have...” The King’s voice was melancholy and soft, and I focused on the flickering flames in an attempt to block it from my heart. “But it seems… as per usual… I didn’t quite think things through. I didn’t fully realize how much you needed the Treaty. How willing you were to sacrifice yourself for the sake of your people…”

I heard the soft creak of the cushions as he stood, and stiffened slightly. My neck itched to turn and look. To see what he was doing. To know what shape his thin lips took then, or what shade of red his eyes were. Would they be dark with his regret? Or would they flash with his pain? His slender knit eyebrows, would he have them scrunched up towards the top of his nose? Crushing together his heavy brow, piling each on top of the other; the way they did when he was mad. Or would his face be soft, with his brows almost drooping off the sides of his face, making his eyes big? Was his chin tilted up to look for my face, making his hair fall down his back? Or would he be staring at the floor, unable to find the courage to meet my gaze, and have the messy locks framing his sharp jaw and prickling his long ears? It bothered me more than I cared to admit that I didn’t know, and was left with only the memory of his face in my mind’s eye. Yet my pride, and my fear, would not allow me to turn to him. Even though having nothing but the hollow shadow of his face set a deep ache in my chest.

“... As Royals, I suppose our method is rather backwards…” He finally sought to fill the silence, and his voice placed him somewhere at my back, still close to the couch. “We marry first, and have our courtship after… We have to just hope the person we picked is a good match...” I heard him shuffle a step closer. “... I’m sorry, I don’t mean to sound like I’m making excuses… But I didn’t need to wait… I didn’t want to wait… because… because...”

I jumped as his hands suddenly came around my waist, then slid to my front until his arms were wrapped as far around me as they could go. I felt him bury his face into my back, and wasn’t sure whether to stiffen at his touch or shiver. I froze, halfway through a breath. Confused by his proximity, and the heat of him bleeding through the fabric of my clothes.

“I saw you, Nikostratus, and I knew I wanted you… Knew I needed you… From the very first moment I laid eyes on you… I was lost.” His voice was muffled, but each word still stabbed at my heart. “I-I guess… I guess I just hoped that you would feel the same.” I felt him shake his head. “But you don’t need to. I know I’m… I know that maybe I move too fast for you… I beg that you can forgive me… because when it comes to you, at the very least, I am… weak...”

I let out a shaky breath, and my hand moved of its own accord to lightly brush against his arms around my waist. My mind spun, and again I had a hard time finding my voice. I was glad he couldn’t see my mouth flap like a fish.

“... Grier…”

He shook his head against me a second time. “It’s ok. I’ve already forced you into enough. You don’t have to say or do anything-”

“Can I just-” I snapped, then sucked in a tight breath, stilling myself. Trying to calm the soft lingering smolder of my anger. Trying to pull something more cohesive from the swirl of emotions in my chest. “... The past is the past... and we can’t go back and change it now.” I hesitated, then rested my hand on his arm. “... Maybe we should leave it there.”

Before he could respond, there was a loud clattering crash from beyond the door, and a few girlish shrieks. I heaved a hefty sigh, reaching up and pinching at the bridge of my nose. The King’s arms loosened a bit, as I sensed him turning towards the hall.

“I’ve left her alone too long.” I mumbled. “... I should go see what trouble she’s gotten up to now.”

As I slowly turned, he released me, keeping his eyes low. I could see him clearly now... His face was in the shape of pain; his brow knitted, his mouth small and downturned. I couldn’t see his eyes, and his wild hair fell in a frame around his face. My heart throbbed against my ribcage. I watched him nod slowly, and swallowed hard at the sight.

“... We can…” I hesitated again. “... We can talk more… later. Yes?”

He glanced up at me through his lashes. “I’d like that.”

I didn’t bother with a further farewell. Instead turning and breezing out the door. Following the sounds of growing chaos to locate Morgana.

...

The trouble with the goblin noble ladies had been more or less quickly sorted. It simply appeared to have been a small misunderstanding regarding an over extended elbow and a supposedly priceless vase. Apparently the ladies had not expected such a rambunctious human princess. But they had all seemed rather nice. Most were only a few years younger than myself, though none came past my waist. They giggled and ogled at me from behind fans, shy and formal with fluttering, oversized lashes (the latest goblin trend, I learned). However, they gushed over Morgana, and seemed to truly enjoy her spirit. After we wished them a farewell and Hibik had escorted them out, she asked me if she could have all of them be her Lady.

I didn’t have the strength to return to the room Grier might still be, so we explored the halls while she debated the qualities of each. Trying unsuccessfully to pick one from the gaggle. I let her speak, following her about with a torch in one hand. I didn’t mind. It was nice to hear her voice, and see her so excited.

So I ambled along the hall quietly, my eyes downcast as my sister sprinted around me to explore every nook and cranny as we walked. Of which there were a lot. My face was set into its usual mask of ‘seriousness’. But internally, my mind was buzzing like a thousand angry insects. At first I tried to orchestrate my thoughts; to corral them into one pattern. Soon the effort started to give me a headache, so I allowed my mind to do as it would. Barely comprehending each thought or emotion before it ricocheted off the side of my skull and another took its place.

Grier, of course, was at the forefront of my thoughts. What he had said about not needing this Treaty… but instead needing me? Gods, I just couldn’t understand his thinking. It had only been a few weeks, and the goblin was obsessed with me. I wondered if that’s how it was with goblins. Once they decided on a partner, they fixated on them. Unable to think of anyone or anything else. And he had decided on me the minute he saw me walk into the throne room. No thought, no debate. No getting to know me, or wondering if he should or shouldn’t. A part of me envied his quick and confident decision. I couldn’t think of a time I hadn’t agonized over a choice, even tiny ones. Another part of me, a smaller, quieter part… understood it. Not in the same way, albeit. The first time I had met Grier, I had been on edge. Almost terrified of him and what he represented for my people and my future. But now…

He had always been gentle with me, if a little callous at times. He had always sought to understand me, and make me as comfortable as he was able. He had fawned over me, and constantly went out of his way to speak his mind and heart to me. Which… I supposed… was part of the problem. I had never had anyone be so… And to be faced so boldly with such powerful emotions... ones that I had never been allowed to express or understand… it was unnerving. Though I found the more he did it… the less it shocked me. And I couldn’t entirely deny how much I found I enjoyed his company myself. Nor could I ignore the pleasantness of the warm feeling he elicited in my chest...

“Hey, Niko?”

I came back to the present with a few slow blinks, and turned to consider my sister as she ducked beneath my elbow. “Yes, little chickadee?”

“You ok?” Her little hands came up to wrap around my arm, and she gave it a gentle tug. “You seem… not here.”

My cheeks tinted a shade darker, and I cleared my throat lightly. “Ah, sorry, chickadee… I was just… thinking.”

“I like it here.” She told me, beaming. “It's big, and pretty, and everyone smiles a lot…” She skipped over to the nearest bobble, making funny faces in its reflective surface. “And it’s so colorful!” She looked over her shoulder at me. “... Do you like it here, Niko?”

I sighed quietly, glancing around. Considering it for a moment. “... I think I’m starting to.”

“It’s kind of messy for your tastes, isn’t it?” Morgana smiled, darting back over to scoop up my hand and pull me further down the hall. “What about the goblins? Do you like them?” She dropped my hand to run over to another strange item, poking it carefully with one finger. “I think they are nice. And I like their ears.”

I smiled a little at that, glancing around. “They are a very kind people.” I agreed.

“Grier doesn’t really look much like a goblin.” She mused aloud, and my spine stiffened at his name. As if maybe she had been reading my thoughts earlier. “He’s taller than me. And his ears are smaller than other goblins’.” She shrugged, turning and leading the way to another intersection. “He is green though, and he dresses funny. I think that’s enough.”

“Chickadee, you shouldn’t-”

“What’s it like to be married, Niko?” She asked curiously, looking back over her shoulder at me.

I stammered uselessly for a second. “I-I’m afraid I don’t have an answer for that...”

She scoffed. “Not yet, anyway.” She turned her attention to the left, and skipped to the edges of the torchlight before waiting for me to catch up. “But I think you’ll like it.”

“I’ll let you know.” I replied dryly, and she giggled.

“This way.” She told me, pointing down another hallway. I followed along behind her obediently. “Do you think I’ll get married someday?”

My lips pursed, and I shook my head. “Absolutely not. I forbid it.”

“Niiikoo!”

“Nope. I’m sorry. You’re not allowed to grow up.” I told her as she charged at me to plow face first into my torso. “And only grownups get married. Ergo, you are never getting married.”

She laughed, wrapping her arms about my middle. “But I am growing up, Niko!”

“I have already forbidden it. So you cannot grow anymore.” I patted her head. “I hope you like being this tall.”

Morgana swatted my hand away, then shoved at me playfully. “You can’t keep me from growing up! You’re just a brother! Brothers can’t do that.”

“But we can do this.” I hooked my arm around her waist as she dove at me again, and simply hoisted her off the ground. Carrying her in the crook of my elbow. She screeched and kicked, alternating between laughing and yelling at me. I smirked, turning to make our way back down the hall.

“Not that way, Niko!!” She cried, punching the back of my leg. “Your rooms are the other way!”

I sighed, rolling my eyes. “Well, at least one of us has a good sense of direction.” I commended her, and turned to the correct hallway.

We were greeted by a few amused smiles as I toted her down the hallway. But despite a slight tinge to my cheeks, I found I didn’t much mind the audience. A vastly different experience than at our own castle. The goblin attendants were polite, stepping out of our way with small bows. Smiling and chuckling to themselves as we passed. I nodded to each appreciatively, formally, pretending I didn’t have a wriggling, squealing child tucked under one arm.

By the time we reached my rooms, she was laughing so hard she had gone limp in my grip. I shouldered open the door, extinguishing the torch and finally placing her back on her feet. She shoved at me again, as if to knock me off my feet. She did manage to rock me back a step, but I simply scooped her up again and dropped her over my shoulder until she relented and begged to be put down once more.

She huffed and puffed for a moment, her face flushed, and I smirked at her again. “That’s not fair! You’re bigger than me!”

I fluffed her soft hair. “Well, like I said. You’d better get used to being this size.”

“Would I be tall for a goblin?” Morgana asked me, swatting my hand away again. “Do goblin babies come from eggs? Are they very small?”

“Certainly not eggs, chickadee,” I replied, shaking my head, “And I would imagine they are quite small, yes. If you were a goblin, I suppose you would be tall… And also green.”

She giggled at my teasing, leading the way with a skipping step to the bedroom. I saw her eyes dart about, considering my chambers again. “Why are your rooms so empty, Niko? Where’s all your stuff??”

I stood behind the couch, following her eyes around. “Well… I don’t have much “stuff” here.”

“Why not?”

“... I haven’t been here very long.”

“Where does stuff even come from,” She mused, walking over to the empty sitting room. I followed a few paces behind her. “I just remember having stuff. I don’t remember getting it.”

“It depends on what it is.” I replied softly. “Some things you need, so you make sure you get them. Other things are gifts. Or perhaps tokens or remembrances. And those you collect as you go.”

She led us out to the balcony, leaning carefully over the edge. I wandered closer nervously, eyeing the long drop. And I made sure to stay within grabbing distance. Just in case.

“Ok. I’ll just have to get you gifts then.” She assured me, hanging off the railing by her arms to curl back to look at me. “That way your rooms won’t be so empty anymore.” Her head tilted to the side. “Though I guess you’ll be moving in with Grier soon. Is that where all your stuff is now?”

I stiffened and my face fell. She must have noticed, because she straightened herself out and leaned against the balcony again. We looked quietly out over the mountain range for a few minutes, and my thoughts swirled about dangerously.

“Are you excited to get married, Niko?” She asked me after a little.

I winced at the word, then glanced at her sidelong. “It’s… complicated, chickadee.”

“Why?”

I resisted the urge to sigh. “Well… I… I need to get married, to keep our people safe… I don’t really get a say in that... and whether or not I’m excited for it, I didn’t really get to choose it.”

She seemed to think about that for a second. “Yeah, but… the goblins are nice. And Grier is fun. And you’ll get to be a King, right?” She bounced a little, coming off the railing to wander over and draw circles on the cold glass of the window. “It’s like how sometimes you tell me ‘how do you know you don’t like it if you don’t try it’ whenever you want me to eat something yucky or wear something ugly.”

“It’s not quite-”

“And then sometimes, I try it, and I do like it.” She continued, ignoring me. “Valerianus says that since we’re Princes and Princesses, we don’t always get to do everything we want. And Grier said the same thing about being King. Some things we have to do. But…” She turned back to me. “That doesn’t mean we can’t like it too. Even if we didn’t get to pick it.” Her head tilted to the side. “Sometimes we think we want one thing, but really, it's not very good for us. Or it's only good for a little while. Like desert!” She danced from foot to foot as she spoke. “And then, the thing we have to do is actually really good for us… Like broccoli.” She grinned. “...Grier’s even green too.”

I raised a brow at her. “... Did you just compare my fiancé to broccoli?”

She giggled. “I just think that you always say green things are good for us… And Grier’s green too… So that means he’s probably good for us.”

I laughed loudly at that, shaking my head. “Chickadee, you are a wonder.”

Her reply was cut off by a knock from inside. Before I could even think to say anything, she had darted back through the rooms and opened the door.

“Good afternoon, Princess,” Came Seoc’s voice as I made my way more slowly to the foyer, “You are just the royal I was hoping to see.”

“I am?” She asked excitedly, bouncing on her toes. She glanced over her shoulder at me as I slowly approached.

Seoc offered me a bow, and I returned a nod before he turned back to Morgana. “Yes, Your Highness. Your rooms are ready, and we have staff on hand to-”

She squealed so loudly the goblin nearly toppled over in shock. “My very own rooms in a goblin castle!” She cried, bouncing up and down. Morgana spun, grabbing my hand. “ Come on Niko! Let’s go see!”

I sputtered an apology to Seoc, who only grinned knowingly and led the way down the hall. Morgana was practically floating beside me, she bounced so much. And when we reached the soft pine doors, she broke away to sprint in and dart from room to room. Pointing out this or that feature, marveling at the mirrors... Greeting the startled goblin decorators who waited for instruction there.

I spent the rest of the day watching my sister decorate her quarters to her heart’s content. Asking for more curtains, more blankets, more pillows. I wasn’t sure where the goblin attendants managed to find the things she asked for, but each more ludicrous item she described they seemed to manage to procure out of thin air. By the time the sun had set, she was, for once, exhausted. Though still giggling with excitement. They brought us a light supper in her newly decorated chambers, and she regaled me with a retelling of a story she had read while I was away. Her new Lady wouldn’t be able to start until the following day (Morgana finally picked the one named Safa and sent word earlier), so Seoc was more than pleased to attend to us both for the time being. Hibik even stopped by once to see that everything was progressing smoothly. I wondered briefly about another goblin, but pushed that worrying thought from my mind.

I couldn’t remember the last time I had been able to spend so much time with Morgana without being constantly guarded or interrupted by other things. I couldn’t remember the last time I had seen her smile so much either. It left me in a pleasant mood, with the echo of a smile on my lips. Though I could feel the lingering buzz of my unattended thoughts permanently at the back of my mind throughout the afternoon.

When Morgana finally settled for the evening, I wished her a goodnight, and made my way out. Heading back to my own chambers down the hall, a walk so easy even I could manage it without assistance. Poor Seoc had been exhausted by my sister’s antics, and I had told him to retire early. I had a feeling tomorrow would be a busy day as well for him. My mind was heavy with the weight of my thoughts, and now without my sister to distract me, they flooded my consciousness again. I strode numbly down the hall, hardly paying attention to my surroundings.

So when I approached the door of my rooms and saw the goblin King leaning there against the wall, I nearly jumped out of my skin. I blinked at him stupidly.

“... I thought maybe we could talk more?” He proposed softly. “I didn’t like how we left things and... and I wanted to… maybe explain myself… again...”

I almost sighed, considering him, but couldn’t help my lingering good mood. “... How long has it been since your last confession?” I asked almost timidly, my voice dry. “Surely you must be filled to bursting since this morning…”

He gave me a toothy smile at my quiet teasing. I flicked my eyes away and rubbed at the back of my neck shyly.

“I do have a tendency to do that, don’t I?”

I nodded, then glanced at my door. Swallowing another sigh. “...D-do you… do you want to come in?”

The goblin’s grin turned sheepish. “...If it’s not too much trouble.”

I led the way into my chambers, hesitating in the foyer briefly before moving to the bedroom, seeing as there was nowhere else to sit. It was the first time I regretted my lack of furniture since moving in. Grier slowly sat on one side of the couch there, but as soon as I sat down too he quickly slid closer. I tried not to stiffen, even as my heart raced.

“... Are you still mad at me?” He asked, breaking the silence that had blanketed us.

I did sigh then, shaking my head. My mouth opened, then I slowly closed it again.

“I never meant to force you into this marriage,” He started to gush, “I never wanted-”

I held up my hand, silencing him. “I-I… I just need a moment…” I mumbled. “... To sort through…”

I jumped a little as he reached up and took my hand in his. But I let him slowly entwine his fingers between mine once more, and our hands fell onto the couch between us. I swallowed hard, my heart skipping in my chest. His touch had my thoughts swirling, and I struggled to try and sort through them. The King waited as patiently as he was able, yet with each passing breath I felt more and more anxious as I struggled to find what I wanted to say. Which simply made it more difficult to do so.

“... I-I… I’m not…” I shook my head again, then cleared my throat quietly. “We… I-I mean… you… or more rather… I…”

He glanced at me, lips twitching. His amusement made me even more flustered. I mumbled something incoherent and swallowed hard again. I started as he brought my fingers to his lips, resting a gentle kiss on my knuckles. I assumed he meant it to be a comforting gesture. It seemed to have the opposite effect on me. My face flushed, and I stammered something else before clamping my mouth shut. Letting the silence settle about us once more. I stared down at our hands now between us once more, uncertain what else to do in that moment.

“... I am sorry to have… perhaps pressed too hard for this moment,” Grier began, finally breaking the silence, “But… I have been dying to speak to you since…”

I didn’t answer, chasing a nervous breath down my throat with a quiet swallow. Still staring at our hands. I wasn’t sure how to answer. How to say anything at all. It was as though my tongue had completely forgotten the purpose for which it was originally designed… at the moment it was hopelessly lost in the memory of the taste of his.

“Can we perhaps… speak bluntly for a moment?” He asked, his voice soft with a foreign somberness to it. “... I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

I adjusted my tongue in my mouth, glancing over at the door. Remembering that morning with a wince. “I-I… I apologize for… f-for…”

He shook his head, and I stiffened as he slid a little closer. Lifting our clasped hands up to rest on his knee between us. I swallowed again, my eyes darting about in an effort to find some measure of distraction. No matter how small.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for,” He reassured me quietly, tilting his head in an effort to try and catch my eye, “I just... Wanted to say a few things. And to ask a few things, if you are willing…”

I looked down at our hands, then back over to the door. Shifting nervously. “B-but… ah… Morgana…” I dropped off, my excuse sounding weak even to my own ears.

He chuckled lightly. “She’ll be fine for the night now, surely… I just…” He sighed, brushing his hair out of his face with his free hand, “This… this is hard for me… “

My heart suddenly plummeted into the pits of my stomach, leaving my head spinning. Hard for him? What was hard for him? My mind raced with a thousand possibilities, each one worse than the last. My outburst that morning had made him realize we wanted different things. Or perhaps he had been insulted that I did not return his affection. Perhaps he had come to his senses finally. Realized he didn’t like me as much as he thought. Or maybe he wanted to ask permission to take a lover. Or maybe something about… I raked my brain. What had happened yesterday? What had he seen? Was it my father? Was he worried about him? Or perhaps something to do with Morgana-

“I miss you.”

I jerked my head up, staring at him, absolutely flabbergasted. He shuffled, and now it was his turn to avoid my eyes. My mouth opened, then I closed it again. What in the gods’ names did he mean?? I had hardly been away from the man for more than two weeks. And during that time I had been dragged through emotional upheaval after emotional upheaval, been forced to face the most hated parts of myself, forced to face my father’s disownment, forced to… to feel this warmth. To wonder at the lighter-than-air feeling his company left me with. Forced to endure a heart that couldn’t decide whether it should race or freeze in my breast. All because of this man. All because I had hardly left his side. And yet, now he said he missed me? … Had I changed? Had I regressed to my previous self, all hard walls and blunted edges? Or perhaps my outburst from the morning had left him thinking I was an angry and bitter person. I ached with each thought, wondering what he could possibly mean.

He didn’t leave me waiting long. “It sounds silly, I know, but it’s the best way I can think to describe it…” His scarlet eyes drifted to our hands, and he slowly turned mine over. “I miss you. I miss you constantly. You’re… you’re all I can think about.” He ran his thumb across the palm of my hand. “And.. it’s hard, because… I don’t want to scare you, or rush you… But I just… I always want to be touching you. I always want to be near you. I think about the taste of your mouth, and the feel of your body against mine… and…” He smirked sadly, “And then I miss you.”

I stayed frozen, stuck in place. A haze around my head, a tingling in my fingers even as he ran his back and forth over them. My heart thudded so loudly in my breast I was certain he would be able to hear it, and I sought to quell its thunder. I wanted to speak, to say something back to him. But my thoughts were a swirling mess, and I couldn’t pull more than a word or two from the thicket. And nothing I pulled felt right.

“I… I was very angry at the castle yesterday…I could barely control it… ” He told me softly, “When I saw that… To think that he…” His jaw clenched, and he shook his head, “I hurt for you. I thought more than once about barging back into the chambers and just…” He sighed, “And now I…” Another sigh, and he shook his head. “... But then, I’m selfish... I’m selfish, and needy, and desperate for your attention…” He was still refusing to meet my eyes, staring down at our hands. “I want to be the one to make you happy. I want to be the one to have the secret of your smile. I want to know all your little intimate, hidden parts you keep tucked away. I… I want you to be mine. Completely mine. And I don’t want to share you with anyone else…”

I didn’t entirely feel like I was sitting there at all. I felt as though I was floating above us, listening to Grier’s confessional. But I was filled with that strange warmth, one becoming more and more familiar each time it flushed my frame from head to toe. I peeked at his face shyly from beneath my dark lashes, and noted that he was still avoiding looking at mine.

“I’m trying to be patient… Trying to stay in your comfort zone… But ah…” I thought he looked a little more green than normal, and a sad smile played at the corners of his thin lips. “But I wanted to keep you abreast of my thinking… so if you ever wanted to… to take some initiative, or ask for something… I wanted you to know that you’ll never overstep your bounds, or make me uncomfortable, or unhappy… or anything like that… Not that you have to,” He added quickly “… If this is all you ever want, I’m happy to give that to you too… ” He squeezed my hand gently. “You could ask me for the sun, and I would be content spending the rest of my life in darkness to give it to you…” Grier gave a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Aah, I didn’t… I didn’t mean to gush quite so much… especially after this morning…” He rubbed at the back of his neck with his free hand. “You must think me an absolute-”

I liked the taste of his voice in my mouth as I suddenly caught his against it. I liked the way he drew in a sharp breath, then quickly recovered to reach out with his free hand and catch the back of my head so eagerly. I liked the way he slid closer, until our thighs brushed together, stretching to the farthest extent of his reach. Lacing our lips as deeply against each other as he could. I shivered as his fingers ran along my hair, and his thumb traced just below my ear.

A wave of shyness washed over me after a shuttering beat of my heart, and I pulled back. Blinking and blushing profusely. He lingered nearby, our faces nearly touching, his hand still at the back of my neck. I opened my mouth, breathing shallowly for a moment, trying to will the words to my lips. I saw his scarlet eyes watching me quietly, filled with something I had no name for which left my heart skipping sporadically.

“...I’m…” I started, my voice barely beyond a whisper, “I-I’m… I’m not good at this…” My words felt smushed and mumbled, and I wasn’t sure he’d be able to understand me. But I had to try. I wanted to try... I stared down at our hands, still clasped on his knee. “I… don’t… I d-don’t… I don’t always know… what I’m…” I dropped off, swallowing hard. “What I’m… feeling…” I scoffed at myself softly. “I never know… And… A-and I don’t trust myself… with this…” I chanced a glance up at him. “... With you.”

His hand slid down, cupping my cheek. “... Can I help? … Am I rushing you?”

I hesitated, bringing up my hand to lay over his. Hooking my fingers around it as if I was going to pull it away. But then, I closed my eyes, and let myself lean into it instead.

“You do help.” I breathed against his wrist, and I felt him squeeze our other hands together. “And… I need… I think I need you to…. Push me… j-just a little.” My eyes half opened, and I stared off at nothing, still tucked into his palm. “Because… b-because I’m… I’m scared.”

“... Of me?” His voice was equally soft.

I shook my head, then hesitated again. I finally took his hand from my cheek, looking down at it still wrapped in my own. A dull ache formed inside me, and I felt my brow furrow. Felt lines crease into the edges of my eyes as I tried to find the words to describe whatever was pulsing through me. Whatever sensation this was… whatever emotion. But I couldn’t think of the words. Couldn’t find how to tell him… Then I brought his hand to my chest, and flattened his palm against it, pressing my hand lightly on top.

“... Of this…” I squeezed my eyes shut, shaking my head slightly. Wondering if he could feel my heart sputtering beneath his fingertips. “I-I don’t… I don’t trust it… I don’t understand it…”

I felt his weight shift beside me, felt the brush of his breath against my cheek. Then the heat of his lips there, as faint as the air had been a moment before. He released my hand on his knee, bringing it up to hold my face steady, as he planted a gentle kiss on each of my eyelids. I shivered beneath his touch, and felt his fingers curl beneath mine against my chest. I didn’t dare move, afraid of breaking the moment. Afraid of losing the warmth curling through me.

“... After what I saw yesterday…” Grier murmured softly, his hand gently caressing my cheek, “I can’t imagine that you were ever allowed to have emotions… let alone express them… But… I see you, Nikostratus,” He pressed his hand a little tighter to my chest, “... I see how much you’ve changed, just in the short time you’ve been here…” He stopped, and I opened my eyes to find him kneeling on the couch, his legs behind him, perched slightly above me with scarlet eyes vibrant. I looked away from them shyly. “... Change is the wrong word… Especially with Morgana here…” I winced, and he leaned closer at that, resting his forehead against mine. “I’d like to think you two are more alike than perhaps you may first appear…” He sighed softly, his breath spilling across my face, and I drew it in deeply, greedily. “... It makes me wonder what it would’ve been like if…” He dropped off.

I started to shake my head, but he stilled me with his hand. “... I don’t want this for her…” I told him quietly, my voice thin. “I don’t want her to… to end up like me…”

“You act like that would be such a bad thing.” He replied, running his thumb along my cheek.

“... Is it not?” It was a question, but one that echoed with the sad solidity of a declaration.

“I like you. I like everything about you.” He pressed. “I think she would be lucky to end up like you.” He stilled me again as I tried to shake my head once more. “I think you fail to see what a good person you are. You are smart, and loyal, and kind. You are selfless, and honorable.” A smirk slipped across his lips. “And undeniably handsome.”

“S-stop… S-stop that…” I finally managed to shake my head, starting to pull away from him, suddenly sensitive to his touch. “I-I am… I am timid, and hesitant… I-I prefer being alone … I-I have a temper… and I don’t know h-how to… to explain myself… I don’t…” I stopped, glancing at him out the corner of my eye, “... I never take…”

“And I am an arrogant ass, who throws a fit when he’s not the center of attention.” Grier returned even as my voice petered out, catching his fingers in my vest and giving it a gentle tug. “I’m pushy, and demanding, and emotional. I’m impatient. I never think things through.” I let him pull me a little closer, and he ran his thumb over the buttons running down my front. “And I’m selfish, for wanting someone as wonderful as you…”

“You’re not…” I blushed, then averted my eyes. “Ah… y-you’re not… that much of an ass…” He laughed at my shy teasing, and my lips twitched at the corners, feeling a little bolder. “... You’re a good King… and you’re thoughtful… a-and amiable… and… a-ah…” I dropped off, my face growing even hotter. “A-and… gentle... And nice …” I stared down at my lap, running my thumb hesitantly across his knuckles still latched around my vest.

The fingers of his free hand came back to my chin, tilting my head. Just in time to meet his lips as they came to bear against mine. I let out a fluttering breath, hitched and fearful, but couldn’t help melting into his mouth. Leaning close. Feeling my head spin and that strange yet wonderful warmth filling me. He kissed me deeply, his fingers skipping back up my jaw to cup the base of my skull. His fist balled in my vest, pulling me closer to him. My free hand smoothed across his knee where he had left it. I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing myself to relax. Forcing myself not to think about anything else, and to just enjoy that moment… that moment of bliss, and the taste of his tongue as he slipped it between my lips. The heat of his hand on my neck. The insistent tug of his fist at my breast. 

By the time he finally broke away, he was practically on my lap. Half kneeling over me, half sitting, so that for once I had to tilt my head back to look up at him. Which I did, shyly, and he smiled. Baring those sharp, pointy teeth at me.

“I love the taste of you,” He murmured, stroking his fingers back and forth across my neck, “You always taste sweet, and you smell sweet too. I’m obsessed with the way you smell.” He leaned down, nudging his nose against the tip of mine. “I love the color of your eyes, and I’m haunted by that ghost of a smile you keep trapped at the edges of your lips.” His hand traced lower down my neck, slipping idly beneath my collar. “And your voice… I could listen to your voice all night…”

I didn’t know how to respond. I tried to find words, tried to ease the heat currently burning my ears. But the warmth was in my chest now, and though I longed to say something back, I just… couldn’t seem to make the sounds come out. So I opted for an alternative answer… and I brushed our lips together again, as gentle as a feather. Hoping that action would relay my meaning to him. I felt him leaning after me as I drew away. My eyes flicked to the side, hiding away from him even as he tilted his head to try and catch them once more. He seemed to consider this for a moment as my face flushed and my heart raced.

“Everyone has their faults, Nikostratus,” He told me, running his fingers along the bare skin at the top of my spine, “Only a statue can strive to be perfect.” Grier dipped, falling back into my line of sight and locking our eyes together. “But something made of stone can never live. And to be alive means taking the bad,” He snuck in closer, until his lips brushed against mine as he spoke his next words, “With the good.”

I let myself give in to the temptation of his breath on my lips. Closing the gap and kissing him again. And again. And again. I felt him ease himself closer, sliding his arm around my neck, slipping his hand at my front between the stealthily unbuttoned layers of fabric. The heat of him was intoxicating, and my own hands reached for his waist. I wasn’t sure if I pulled him there, or if he slid across himself, but suddenly I found him on my lap. His bottom resting on my thighs, his knees on either side of my hips. He curled over me, bending my head back with the passion of his kisses until it scraped the back of the couch. He kept one arm wrapped around my neck, the other was wiggling its way further under my vest. 

He seemed unable to sit still, like a wave cresting and falling, crashing slowly against my body. It sent a hot gush of emotions through me, and burned my core like fire. My hands slid around his waist, stacking one arm on top of the other to crush him to me, one palm pressed between his shoulder blades. To feel the life of him with each breath that pressed our chests together. To feel the passion as his hips slowly ground against mine. I would have groaned, had he allowed a single molecule of air to pass between my mouth and his. Instead I shuddered, quivering beneath his touch. Lost in the storm of his kisses. The taste of his mouth, the feeling of his tongue swirling around mine.

The goblin pulled back suddenly, and I found myself gulping in deep breaths of air that felt cold compared to the heat of his lips. My eyes fluttered open, and I stared up at him, my jaw a little slack. 

“Not yet…” He breathed against me, and I wasn’t sure if it was for my benefit or his, considering the hunger in his eyes. “... I can do better than this.”

I almost laughed, my gaze flickering down to his lips. “Better?”

“Special.” He crooned, dripping closer to me, and my breath shuddered from my own lips. “You said you wanted it to be special.”

I was distracted by the way the candlelight danced in his eyes, and didn’t respond for a moment. “... Did I?” I mumbled, belatedly.

He chuckled, and I could feel his breath against my cheeks again. “You did.” His teeth pricked my bottom lip lightly. “...And I live to please.”

“A-ah…” I stammered, then blinked earnestly, trying to clear the swirling heat in my head. “...R-right…”

His eyes traced around the edge of my face, and he settled on my lap carefully. My face burned as I became vividly aware of his growing “interest” in me as he did. And I could definitely feel my own blood rushing through more than just my face. My breath tasted different, and I itched to feel more of him. Burned to return to our previous pursuit... My heart raced and skipped, and my thoughts became a useless swirl again.

“Perhaps I should go,” He mused, though his voice sounded leery of the thought, “Let you… sleep. It’s late.”

He started to shift, and my arms suddenly tightened around him. My own eyes widened in shock of my own daringness. And I felt a shiver of anxiousness ripple through me as he looked back at me in what I supposed was surprise.

“O-or… Or you… y-you could…” I swallowed the fast forming lump in my throat, and wondered if my mouth had always been this dry. “A-ah… You could… s-stay.”

“Stay?” he echoed, and I nodded sheepishly, instantly dropping my eyes bashfully away from his. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t hear his grin in his voice with his next words. “... Well, I suppose I could… though your bed is smaller than mine.”

His teasing left my ears hot, and I suddenly recalled the fact that he was still sitting on my lap. And was likely just as aware of the bulge between my own legs. I quickly loosened my hold on him, rubbing at the back of my neck with one hand and trying to look around as if the empty bedchambers were far more interesting than the goblin perched on my person. He chuckled softly again, and I noticed him look over my shoulder for a minute. Chewing over the offer.

“I-it’s ok.” I quickly gushed. “You don’t have-”

“I want to.” He cut me off, then his hand came up, turning me to face him. “Just to sleep though… If you’ll have me.”

I nodded again, stealing quick glances at him periodically before darting my eyes away. I jumped slightly as he leaned back over me to kiss me again. Tenderly, as if I might dissolve into smoke should he be too rough. For half a second, I thought I had...

He broke away and slid off my lap, catching my hands up in his as he did. Tugging me lightly to my feet. And leading me over to the bed. My heart skipped and pounded in my breast, leaping about wildly. He released my hands to pull off his boots and stockings, and to untuck his tunic. I watched him for as long as I dared, then turned my back on him with the pretense of taking off my own boots to place in their usual place. I stood them neatly, folding my stockings and placing them alongside the rest. I tried not to think too much about the soft creak of the mattress as I heard him settling onto the bed behind me. Carefully, I removed my vest, brushing it down quietly and folding it. Then, a little more hesitantly, I removed my tunic. Folding that as well and placing it with the rest. I pretended not to notice the goblin watching me as I turned back. I noticed his shirt discarded on the ground and picked it up. Folding it neatly and laying it over the back of the couch. I even straightened his boots, placing them next to mine. Delaying my return to the bed further to walk around and put out the candles. Carefully, so as to not drip wax.

I heard his soft chortle, and glanced at him over my shoulder. He reached out a hand, as if to pull me in by it, and I nearly swooned for the sight of him. Stretched across my bed, propped up on one elbow. Reaching out to me while bathed in moonlight… I wished I could go splash myself with cold water. To make sure I wasn’t dreaming and for… other pressing reasons.

Timidly, I walked around the end of the mattress, to the empty side closer to the window. Climbing slowly in beside him. It was warm enough to lay with our torsos above the blankets, but he spread them lightly about our legs as we settled into them. I watched quietly, laying on my back with my head turned towards him. Stiff as a board.

“Would it make you feel better if I didn’t face you?” He teased gently, seeming amused. He rolled onto his side, facing the couch. I traced my eyes over the fine muscles of his back and shoulders. Studied the delicate drape of his long, wild hair.

Hesitantly, I dared slide closer. I let a few breaths pass before I turned onto my side, and reached towards him. My fingers faltered, and my hand shook. But after a few more heartbeats, I braved slipping my palm over his shoulder. His hand came up, brushing his fingertips along my knuckles. His touch soothed me a little more, and I slid closer. Until I could feel the heat wafting off his back. Before I could fully work up my courage, the goblin scooched towards me, closing the last of the gap between us and tucking himself into my chest. I tensed for a moment, then relaxed as the soft and spicy scent of him filled my nose. I slowly wound my arm around him, resting my head on the pillow, my chin and nose brushing his hair. It was soft, like satin, and thicker than I would have thought. Messy, certainly, but without knots or tangles. I tried to calm the heat racing through my veins.

Grier traced his fingers lazily up and down my arm wrapped about his middle. As he did, I felt myself loosen a little more. And more with each passing minute. I let out a breath I didn’t know I had been holding in a quiet sigh.

“Can I ask you something?” He murmured after a few quiet moments. I hesitated, then nodded against the top of his head. “... Would you want to move to my rooms? After we get married, I mean. Permanently.”

I tried not to stiffen again. Tried to let myself stay in that comfortable shape, curled around him. I swallowed hard, turning it over for a second.

“... I-I don’t… I don’t know…” I mumbled back. “I’d never really… considered... ummm…”

“What about kids?” He asked. “Last we spoke about them, you said you’d ‘never really thought about it’. Have you thought about it more yet?”

“O-oh…” I shifted, suddenly uncertain. “No… not really…”

“... Have you thought about our future at all?”

I swallowed hard again. “N-no…” I confessed. “B-but it’s only been… ah…”

He scoffed lightly, his fingers slowing their movement. “Well, I suppose it’s not like we need to rush… but I think about those kinds of things a lot…”

I said nothing for a long time. He lay still in my arms, and I didn’t relax again until his fingers restarted their movement. I sighed against his hair, blinking the tiredness from my eyes.

“I-I… I haven’t… I can’t seem t-to…” I stammered. His hand paused, squeezing my forearm wrapped around him reassuringly. I adjusted my tongue in my mouth. “I’m just… uncertain… and perhaps a bit… umm… wary…”

To my surprise, he nodded. “You’ve got a lot of walls, Nikostratus. And… I assume you put them in place to keep yourself safe. To keep yourself from getting hurt.” He squeezed again. “But if you’ll let me, I’d like to help you bring them down… At least around me.”

“I don’t know… I just…” I slowly wound my arm a little tighter around him, pulling him deeper into my chest. “I-I… I’ve never been… been asked before and… I just… don’t know...” I buried my face in his hair for a moment, then turned my head to the side once my lungs were filled with his scent. “I don’t know how… how I feel… or… Or what I want…”

I hesitated, and must have drawn in sharp enough a breath that he felt it. “You can tell me,” He told me softly, and I wondered what his face looked like at that moment, “It’s alright. Be honest.”

I shifted again. “I’m not sure yet if… If I really like you… or if…” Again I hesitated, and he squeezed my arm gently once more. “... Or if I am just… just finally letting myself… like someone…” I closed my eyes in denial of their burning edges. “I need more time… I-I need to know before…”

He didn’t say anything to that, and part of me longed to see his face again. To see what he was thinking, as I knew it would be plainly written across his features. Another part of me didn’t. I wasn’t sure what I would do if I saw the ache echoing there that I felt in my chest. It was better this way, I reassured myself. Better that I didn’t let him get his hopes up, just to crush them later. Better that he knows now… I told myself that… but it didn’t feel better.

“... I’m marrying you,” I whispered, and tried to keep my voice from quivering, tried to keep from stumbling over the strangeness of that notion slipping through my lips, “I will never go back on my promise for that… but…” I thought I felt him wince at the word, and I instinctively pulled him a little tighter to me. “... But I… I just… I just don’t know.” I sighed, trying to fight the burning in my eyes even harder. “... I like this… I like… umm… th-this…” I turned my face into his hair again, trying to draw strength from the smell of it. “... I think I like this…” Now it was my turn to wince. “... I-I’m sorry…”

He ran his hand up and down my arm again. “Don’t be. I asked you to be honest with me. To always feel free to speak your mind.” I felt him nod, and it made me pull him even closer, curling myself completely around his smaller body. “This is your truth right now. Your emotions are always true, no matter how they make anyone else feel. I would not hold them against you…. And I can wait. Until you know…” His voice dropped off, “... One way or the other…” He scooped up my hand around his middle, bringing it up to his lips to place a gentle kiss over the knuckles. Belittling the sad tinge to his voice. “And I’ll enjoy this. All of this. Because I already know my heart.” He kissed them again, then tucked it against his cheek and settled down to sleep. “I can wait until you know yours...”

....

There was an exasperated cry, and the sound of a door hitting a wall. My only warning before I was jarred fully awake by the added weight suddenly bouncing next to me.

“Niko! NikoNikoNikoNikoNIKO!”

I sat bolt upright, flailing a moment, then feeling the blood rush so thickly through my face I thought my head might explode. Morgana bounced on me, grinning like a fool. She clambered to her feet and continued to jump up and down on the mattress. Leaping back and forth in my bed with a long string of my name punctuating each pounce. My eyes went wide, and then darted to a flabbergasted Seoc and Hibik who now stood at the foot of the bed. Both babbling over the other incoherently. Beside me, Grier gave a grumpy moan, rolling deeper into the pillows. Somehow unperturbed by the ruckus around him. His sound however, had me nearly squeaking in embarrassment.

“Niko! Hibik says I have to ask you if I can go to the gardens. Are there lots of flowers? Can I go? Is it very cold?” She bounced over my knees, barely dodging landing on Grier’s legs, as her words came out so fast I could barely distinguish one from another. “Oh!” She tilted her head to the side. “Did you know Grier is here too?? Is he still asleep? But the sun’s up already!”

“My apologies, Your Highness!” Seoc finally managed, and he seemed to be panting, his slicked back hair disheveled. “Sh-she was very insistent! I tried to stop her!”

The goblins were hastily shifting and moving back and forth, only adding to the overall chaos as Morgana jumped around. Hibik was speaking rapidly to Seoc in goblinese, who seemed to be trying to skitter from side to side as if to predict which part of the bed the Princess would be closest to when he got there. 

“They said you were sleeping! But it’s dawn! You never sleep past dawn!” She told me as she bounced, grinning from ear to ear as she ignored their frantic attempts to coax her down. “And I tried to tell them that-”

“Ch-Chickadee!” I stammered, reaching up to catch her hand. “That’s enough… C-come here.”

She dropped to her bottom, plopping down onto the bed beside me with her legs dangling off the side. The pair of goblins darted over, sputtering apologies in a mixture of Common and goblinese and bowing repeatedly. My face was so hot it hurt, and I struggled to get my mouth and mind to work in coordination. I tried to shake my head, made some attempts to soothe their rushed words. But couldn’t seem to work up the volume to get a word in edgewise.

“Get. OUT. You fools.” Grier growled from somewhere behind me, his voice coarse with sleep. “Now!”

I jumped at the King’s angry snap, even muffled as it was by the sheets and pillows. I almost didn’t recognize it as his. Both of the goblin attendants squeaked, nearly running over each other in their haste to obey the King. Obviously not wishing to suffer his wrath should they be seen hesitating. I was pretty sure I heard the soft thud of one of them tripping over their own feet before I heard the click of the door. Morgana spared the King a glance, but seemed otherwise unbothered.

“Niko, I was talking to Hibik, and he said that the kitchen is really big, so I was thinking-”

“Chickadee,” I breathed, struggling to get enough air through my constricted chest, “Please, I-I need a few minutes-”

“To get Grier up? It’s ok, he can come to the kitchen too. Or is he too busy?” She tilted her head to the side. “What do Kings even do all day?”

“Chickad-” I tried to start again.

“Why IS Grier here?” She asked, tilting her head to the other side. “Did you two sleep together?” I did squeak now, my entire body stiffening at her words. “I thought you would sleep in his room, because that’s where all your stuff must be-”

“Morgana!” I snapped, my voice suddenly tight. She started slightly at that, finally looking up at me and falling still. Instantly I regretted my harshness, and swallowed nervously. “... Look, Chickadee…” I amended gently. “... Why don’t you go with Hibik to the gardens? Or Seoc? Explore for a bit? I-I’ll…. I’ll catch up as soon as I can.”

She watched me for a second, seeming to think this over. I saw her hazel eyes dart over to Grier, still mostly buried in the blankets behind me. I winced, feeling the heat pounding through my head again. But tried very hard to pretend the goblin wasn’t actually there.

“Ok, I like that idea.” She finally agreed, nodding, and bounding from the bed. “Sorry I woke you, Niko.” She leaned over my lap, forearms on my knees. “Sorry Grier!”

His muffled grunt had me stiffening anew, and I blinked rapidly, swinging my legs out of the bed as if in denial that we were in the same one. Morgana’s small body, draped across them, came along with me, and she giggled. Leaping up to wrap her arms around my neck and give me a hug. I tried to release my tension with a sigh, but it only seemed to fan the flames under the balls of my cheeks.

“Listen, Chickadee,” I told her softly, ���We’ll… We’ll need to talk about this later…” She leaned back, looking up at me curiously. I fumbled, my lips becoming like butter. Then shook my head. “But go explore for now.” I scooped the back of her head with my hand as she moved to run off. “And listen to Seoc and Hibik. Ok?”

“Ok, Niko.” She replied exasperatedly, pulling my hand away and skipping off to the foyer.

As soon as she darted out the door (and obliviously left it slightly ajar behind her) I groaned. Dropping my face into my hands and releasing a breath so deep it made my shoulders quiver. My blood was still rushing in my ears, and I felt dizzy and lightheaded.

I nearly jumped out of my skin as a pair of warm green hands slowly slid across my shoulders. I lifted myself from my palms a little, enough to peek nervously at the King out the corner of my eye. My heart skittered and raced at his touch. Grier rested his chin on my shoulder, draping lazily over me. Giving a toothy yawn and blinking sleepily.

“That was certainly a wake up call.” He mused, sounding both tickled and groggy, still a little hoarse.

“... I think I’m going to be sick.” I moaned softly, and he laughed quietly at that.

I jumped again as his hot lips pressed to the soft skin of my neck. “Best thing for an upset stomach is rest…” Another light kiss. “...Come back to bed.”

I hesitated, fidgeting in place. Unable to reconcile the memory of the previous evening with the events of the morning. I glanced nervously towards the slightly ajar door.

“A-aah… B-but Morgana-”

“Can wait.” He trailed a kiss down my neck again, sliding his hot arms even further around me. “Come sleep some more.” When I cast him another peeking look over my shoulder, he grinned sleepily, his eyes still half-lidded. “Selfish, remember?” Another kiss. “I want you-” and another “-all for myself.”

I weakly gestured towards the crack of light snaking out into the hall beyond. “S-she ah… left the door-”

Grier murmured something against my skin I didn’t understand, and flicked his fingers towards the foyer. And the door slammed shut forcefully. I heard the deadlock fall into place with a thud that echoed in the silence following. I swallowed hard.

“It’s too early.” He moaned letting up the press of his lips against my throat to sigh deeply and rest his cheek in the crook of my neck instead. I hadn’t realized how flushed I was until I felt his own heat popping beads of sweat across my skin. “I don’t know how you stand it. And all this sunlight-” He blinked at the window, scowling “-I miss my dark room.”

“... You could go back.” I mumbled dryly, and he chortled.

“Not without you.” He returned in a soft purr. The goblin trailed his fingers lazily up my sternum, sending a shiver down my spine. “...Come to bed?”

I glanced down at my bare feet, shaking my head again shyly. “I-I’m too awake now.”

He gave me a gentle tug. “Then be awake. I’ll sleep for the both of us.”

I shook my head once more. “...Y-you and Morgana must be in a competition to see who is more incorrigible.”

He laughed a final time, laying a final kiss against the side of my neck. I couldn’t help curling away bashfully. The King hummed a soft sound at that, reaching up and turning my head to the side. Then planted a proper, if sloppy, hot kiss on my lips.

“Well, I’m going back to sleep.” He declared weakly as he drew away, considering me through half-lidded eyes. “I’ve already been awake far too long for my liking.”

He flopped back into the sheets, and I looked over at him, surprised. As I watched, he burrowed deeper into them and gave a hefty sigh… I wondered quite how he managed that so easily. I felt a pang of jealousy, but quickly brushed it away. Standing and heading over to my trunk to pull out a fresh tunic and vest. I chanced a glance back over at him as I pulled it over my head and tucked it into my trousers, only to find his breathing had already deepened. I pretended I wasn’t checking on him after every other button as I fastened my vest, and that it was absolute coincidence that I ended up next to the bed a few moments later. Though of course, since I was already there…

I reached out timidly, daring to brush my fingertips along his wild bangs. I drew in a sharp breath, looking around. As if someone might pop out and demand to know exactly what I thought I was doing. No one did though, and I returned my attention to his sleeping face, half submerged in the soft blankets. I dared trail a little closer, bending over him. I decided he was either a very good actor, or already in a very deep sleep. Still, I felt emboldened by his stillness, and placed a shy, almost curious kiss on his temple.

I drew in a sharp breath, withdrawing in surprise, my brow furrowing. I forgot myself, and cupped my hand along his jaw, then slid it up to his forehead. Confirming what my lips had already deduced. The goblin stirred beneath my palm.

“Grier, you’re hot…” I told him, trying to keep the nervousness from my voice.

He shifted sleepily, but a wry smile played across his thin lips. “You’re not so bad yourself…” He mumbled groggily.

“No, I-I…” I stammered exasperatedly, “I mean… You’re burning up…” I couldn’t help but cup my hand around the back of his head. “D-do, do you feel alright?”

He groaned, weakly trying to push my hand away. “I’m just tired. Join me, or leave me be.”

“I’m getting Hibik.”

“Nooo, gods, I’m… I’m fine…” He grumbled, but seemed to be struggling to open his eyes again. “Don’t get that old… that old…”

I didn’t linger a moment longer, spinning and practically running to the hall. The door wasn’t even fully open before I was shouting for the older goblin…

...

UPDATE: Part Twelve HERE

[potatocrab]

Writer’s Review

@allisondraste tagged me for this GREAT game. I am tagging @gingerbreton @glowstickia @its-sixxers and @rhetoricalrogue ✨

Rules: Post two snippets of your writing. The first should be one of the oldest examples of your work that you can find (the older the better!), and the other has to be an excerpt from something more recent. Compare the two side by side to see the difference between what your writing looks like now and how it did then.

I’ve been writing forever, but I don’t have access to any of my works pre-Ao3 (ff.net), so I went with my first published work to Ao3, which is a Mass Effect one shot (A Calm Before the Storm) for Joker x EDI that I wrote in 2012! I mean, what? I still like it, despite some overarching formatting (and tense) flaws. 

And then switching to something from Noir AU. :)

Under a cut for length:

A Calm Before the Storm:

Joker smiled again; danger and fear of death really did get people’s hormones going. On the old ship, even Mordin assumed the relationship between Joker and EDI was much more than what it was. He laughed at the thought, but then froze, lips tightening as he realized EDI wasn’t the same AI she was the previous year. Now, the rumors might have some basis. He caught himself from daydreaming as the main battery doors slid open, an unusually relaxed Garrus immerging, stripped of his armor.

“Joker,” he sounded only mildly surprised. Seeing him outside of the bridge was like seeing Tali outside of engineering. “Something wrong?” he mused, tilting his head. Joker swallowed a chunk of his small meal before rising one eyebrow.

“Does something need to be wrong for me to be here?” he laughed as Garrus seemingly rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. “I was hungry and EDI kinda forced me to take a break,” he explained before eying his civilian clothes. “What are you doing out of the main battery?”

“There’s more to me than calibrating the guns,” he reassured. Joker nodded, eyeing the other end of the floor where the elevator was.

“Yeah, when you aren’t calibrating the weapon’s system you’re calibrating Shepard’s-”

“Keep talking and you’ll end up as ammunition for the Thanix Cannon,” Garrus’s voice rumbled as he spoke, but the small incline of a chuckle at the end of his sentence relieved Joker. He didn’t feel like breaking anything. A small silence came between the two men and Garrus sighed. “Do you think she’ll want some company?” he lowered his voice this time, and Joker refrained from teasing his concern.

“Uh yeah, sure,” he offered a grin, still trying to wrap his head around the commander’s relationship with the turian. Then again, he wasn’t one to judge when he found himself staring at EDI’s body more and more. He was convinced cross-species relationships made more sense than his interest with the ship’s artificial intelligence. “She could use a distraction,”

Garrus’s mandibles twitched, and while Joker was no expert on turian expressions, he wondered if the man just smiled. In return, he nodded, turning towards the elevator. Just like that, he went on his way, and Joker suddenly was met by the awful image of his commanding officer and Garrus doing things no vid could ever describe. A small chill met his spine and he winced, struggling to find his own diversion.

--

Salvation is a Last Minute Business: Chapter 5: Bad Luck Can Be a Big Break

“Have you had partners before me, Deacon?” she questioned next, resisting the urge to smile. Now she was just being nosy, even if it was a valid question that had run through her mind. “And why use the codename Deacon anyways? Have a fascination with religious symbolism, or something?”

“What is this, twenty questions?” he joked, feigning annoyance. “I feel like I’m being interrogated!”

Madelyn softly snickered at that. “I could cuff you and take you back to the agency, give you the real experience.”

His eyebrows shot up, lips twisted in amusement. “Kinky.”

Halfway through the maintenance tunnel they came upon a locked gate. Again, Deacon patted at his pockets before reaching directly towards her temple. Understandably, she flinched away, blinking at him in surprise. “Excuse me?”

“Have a bobby pin I can borrow?” he explained, gloved fingers still reaching for her hairline and up-do. Madelyn dodged his invasive approach, pressing her body closer to the iron bars. Maybe she deserved that for testing his personal bubble.

“Good lord,” she sighed, exasperated, pulling free a small iron pin from her golden curls herself. “I can pick a lock too, if you’d only ask.”

Deacon was visibly pleased by her declaration, shining the light on the lock so that she might see her work. “And where might a lovely lawyer such as yourself have learned such a reprehensible skill?”

“My um—” she faltered, deciding now was not the time to tell Deacon about her deceased husband, or the little things he had taught her in their life together. She wondered if there ever would be a time—or if he already knew, and she even needed to broach the subject. The pin snagged and she steadied her hand. “Nick taught me.”

He quirked an eyebrow at her as if he could tell she was being dishonest. She knew if she was going to continue working with him, she would need to get better at the art of lying. She didn’t go to law school for years upon years without developing a silver-tongue—now it was time to put it to good use. Deacon drummed his fingers along the torch.

“I’m used to running Railroad ops solo. But being partnered up with you?” Madelyn glanced out of the corner of her eye to catch a glimpse of his smirk—apparently it was the only expression he knew. “Isn’t too bad. Now that we’re a team, we should have a code name. Like Double Indemnity, or White Heat…the Big Sleep?”

She paused to remove her gloves, stuffing them in her coat pocket. Fingers bare, she had an easier time with the metal pin, even with Deacon’s rambling. “I’m partial to Bogart and Bacall—though I wonder if that movie was only half as good because of their off-screen romance.”

“If this plays out anything like a cliché noir film,” Deacon mused. “I can’t promise you won’t fall devastatingly head-over-heels in love with me by the end.”

Madelyn smiled, but she immediately dismissed the words as harmless banter. So he was a flirt—she could manage that. “I can’t guarantee you won’t be the one doing the falling, Mr. Deacon.”

“Oh, Charmer.”

[catte-bard]

Esrey's fucking greedy so: ◁◁ ◁◁ ◁◁ ◁◁

Send me    “ ◁◁ “   for my muse to tell yours a memory from their childhood

(God this is going to get long so putting a read more)

Bellona frowns. “Why the sudden interest? I guess I couldtell you a few things…”

She pauses, and she ponders in silence what she could tellthe Elezen. Hm not that one. No, not thateither. Oh!

“Ah how about I tell you a memory about a friend’s father? Ican’t tell you very much about him, he was a…busy man. But there are momentsthat stood out about him.

“My favourite ones of him are when he’d tell my friend and meand the rest of our friends stories. Sometimes it would be simple faerie tales,the typical ones about a hero going to slay some greater evil. Other times it wouldmaybe be an amusing tale from his own childhood. Such as when he allowed hisfriends to dare him into swimming in the ocean during a rather cold springmorning. And how those friends stole his clothing, so he’d have nothing dry toput on after emerging from the freezing waters. It apparently took a lot of furtivenessto get home without being spotted.

“He was currently in the military and would tell us storiesabout that as well. Of course, some of the tales were either greatly…toned downfor our mothers’ sake or greatly exaggerated to keep the interest of severalyoung children.” She smiles.

“He was a good man; my mother knew him well. Trusted him asif he were family.” She goes on. Tiberius had enlisted around the same time as Mother,hadn’t he? Both being young and inexperienced oens when they had met. They hadtrained alongside each other, fought alongside each other. They were thefiercest of friends, weren’t they? Just like her and Atticus. “I remember when I was small child at somepoint I actually thought him to be my uncle.” Bellona laughs.

“Is Uncle coming to visit today? I’d ask. Have they sentUncle away again? And my parents were completely bewildered by what I wastalking about. And they figured out who I meant, they laughed till I swear Isaw tears in their eyes!

“What was I…maybe three or four summers? I was so perplexed andembarrassed when they explained to me that he wasn’t my uncle. My embarrassmentonly made worse when they told the man.” Young pride bruised and feelingbetrayed, Bellona had huffed and told Tiberius that she was glad a bully likehim wasn’t actually her uncle. Andthis only made the man laugh even harder. He swept her up into his arms, tryinga coax a smile out of her and told her that he did not mind being an uncle toher if her parents didn’t mind either.

Though this certainly made her feel a bit better, Bellonastilled turned her nose up at him. And of course, Tiberius Vitalion could onlylaugh. “My mistake would not be forgotten though.” She continued. “It’s becomesomething of a family joke. Many relatives jesting about the ‘Long Lost Uncle’of mine.” At this she rolled her eyes.

She then smiles…an almost sad one. A sudden quietness overcomesher as she absently picks at her sleeve. “He unfortunately died a few years ago;our home was at war you see, and he had to leave to help fight.” The adventurerfinally speaks up. “I remember the day before he left quite clearly. A hugegrin plastered to his face, the air of confidence he walked with. He made mepromise that me and my friend would stay out of trouble while he was gone. Andpromised to bring back a souvenir if we both behaved. Ruffled our hair like wewere both still small children and turned to leave, my friend not knowing he’dnever see his father again.”

“…Apologies, I haven’t told you much else, have I? I guess thiscelebration…The Rising I mean, has me reminiscing about certain things. I don’teven know why I’m telling you all this.” She sighs, rubbing her face. “Mm…howabout a memory that doesn’t make me dwell on old sorrows? I’ll even try to keepthis one brief as I’ve rambled on enough.”

“Let’s see. Oh, if I tell you this one you have to promisenot to make any jokes and not to go around telling anyone else. I was very adventurouschild.” Adventurous here being more synonymous with stupid. “I liked to dothings that impressed my peers but also drove my parents mad.

“That being said, there was this rather old tree in thegarden that I liked to climb. It had died years ago, it no longer bloomed andsome of the limbs were falling off of it.” She says. “But it had a wonderfulview of the garden below, so I liked going up there. Mother and Father often discouragedme from climbing up there, but I was a foolish child and didn’t heed them. Itseemed fate would have me taught a lesson one day though.

“There I was climbing the tree I shouldn’t be in, when oneof the branches gave way under me, finally rotting off after years. The branch thencrashed into another, sending that way toppling down into yet another. Luckily, I was already clingingto a branch above me and luckily it was stable enough to bear my weight. Butthat still left me with a bit of a problem…My path back down was gone…

“I think I was either too scared or too high up to attemptsimply jumping down. But I was up in that old tree for a while. I believe agood hour had passed by before a serv—someone finally came looking for me. Ittook another half hour to get me down…”

(Thanks for the ask! Sorry for the late reply!)

[musingsofonehuman]

Let’s talk about Black Lives Matter...what’s that?...This is a gaming blog? Read the title at the top. Does it mention gaming? No. So let’s talk about Black Lives Matter.

I’ve argued with myself back and forth over whether I should write about this, whether I should say something, but every time I read about it I just get so angry, so sod it, I wanna talk about this, if you don’t wanna read this then fine, but understand that your ignorance is part of the problem. I will also say that I am not an expert in this matter, I know what I know and I have an opinion, these are the musings of one human, these are my thoughts and opinions, they are not a solution.

Like many of you, I’ve been watching the Black Lives Matter movement for the past few months following the death of George Floyd, the outcry of anger, people taking to the streets demanding change, and it is from this movement alongside many other movements and voices that the world has truly opened up and racism has been brought to the forefront. Throughout these times, I’ve been reading, listening, watching and learning all about the situation, I’ve spent a lot of time reflecting on my own actions, reflecting on what I could do better, on how I could help end racism.

I’ll be honest, up until these past few months, I thought racism wasn’t a big problem, I thought, like a lot of people, that because Barack Obama had been voted in as US president that the world was moving on, it didn’t, racism never went away, it just went into the background, it’s only been because of the past few years that racism has suddenly come into the foreground again. But it never left us, we just chose to ignore it, and quite frankly, I’m disappointed in myself, it took a global pandemic, the killing of an innocent man and worldwide protests for me to finally wake up and realise that racism was a massive issue.

So where did it go wrong? Obviously, I have to start with my own self ignorance, and for that there is no excuse. I chose to ignore this issue, I chose to not pay attention to it, I chose to be ignorant while people suffered, people who are just like me, the only difference being the colour of our skin, and yet because of that, they’ve suffered far worse then I could ever imagine. There is no excuse for my ignorance, and for that, I am eternally sorry. But we also have to look at other factors, why wasn’t I taught about any of this in school? Why wasn’t I told about my country’s role in the slave trade? Why was I not educated about racism and why it’s such a big issue? Maybe it’s because our government tried to hide the truth, no, literally, they tried to hide the truth about the British Empire and the atrocities they committed during their reign, all because they didn’t want to own up to their mistakes, and that seems to be a running theme through all of this.

It seems to be that those who are in a position of privilege do not want to give that privilege up, definitely to people who they see as ‘inferior’ or ‘lesser people’. Is that really a bad thing? Does the colour of your skin really dictate who you are as a person? “This person is white so they’re gonna have a successful career, this person is black so they’re gonna be a murderer”. No, that’s not how the system works, the system works to actively oppress black people which is why they fight back, they’re not fighting back because that’s who they are. All these people that have been protesting, labelled as rioters, thugs, thieves, vandals, gangs, they’re not fighting to overthrow the world, they’re fighting for equality, they’re fighting for the same rights that I have, to be able to live in a world where people are not judged on the colour of their skin.

On that note about protesting, have you noticed how the media has been portraying this? On one side, you have people who are protesting for Black Lives Matter, and yet, they’ve been called all the above and more, while people who are protesting for All Lives Matter, which I will get onto, have been treated very kindly in the media, they’ve been called protestors, demonstrators, one media outlet even decided to call them ‘anti-anti-fascist protestors’. If you are that scared to say fascist protestors then don’t even bother, just say it as it is, they’re fascists protestors, they’re defending ideals that are fascist in nature, but no, apparently they’re the good guys in all of this because they’re not destroying public property and clashing with police, even though they totally are. Again, this idea of losing privilege, is this a privilege you really want? The privilege to be able to abuse black people because of the colour of their skin? Do you not have more moral decency than that, or are you literally just a monster?

Take the case that happened just this week, the shooting of Jacob Blake, now thankfully he is not dead, however he has been paralysed from the waist down and may never walk again, all because he opened his car door. Meanwhile, a 17 year old boy fired a rifle into a crowd of people, killed two people and injured another, walked towards the police with his hands up, and the police waved him away and didn’t arrest him, he turned himself in and has now been charged with murder. In all of this, the media has tried to paint the teenager as the good person in all of this, the teenager who illegally got a gun and killed two people all in the name of ‘defending property’. Meanwhile, Jacob Blake has been painted as a bad person because he had a knife in his car, nothing on his person, and is now in hospital where he has been handcuffed to his hospital bed. May I remind you, he was shot in his lower half and may never walk again. How? How is the teenager being portrayed as the good person here? In what world does a 17 year old get to carry a gun, fire it into a crowd, kill people and then walk away from it? Forget skin colour for a second, how is that right? How is that justice? How is a teenager, who in legal terms is still a minor, allowed to buy a gun and use it to kill, whether he intentionally wanted to or not, how is that possible?

It begs the question, what type of world do we want to live in? Seriously, stop reading for a moment and ask yourself, what world do you want to live in? Go ahead, I’ll wait... ... ... ...Thought about it? Well if your answer doesn’t include ‘a world where black people aren’t shot and killed for being black’ then your answer is wrong. It’s not just about being shot and killed, racism is a part of everyday life, whether we acknowledge it or not, from job prospects, to selling your house, to even getting Covid-19, racism is so prolific in our world. We are so used to being racist as a society, we don’t even know that we’re doing it, that’s why it’s comes as a big shock to me, because it’s not just big things like killing people, it’s all the little things, all those tiny things we don’t think about that make such a huge difference. I’ve talked before about music being a form of expression, and I discovered a track that does just that. The song is called Black and it’s by an artist called Dave, you may have heard this song as he performed a version of it at the Brit Awards this year where he called Boris Johnson ‘a real racist’, which by the way, top stuff. The song talks about what black people have to go through on a daily basis, giving scenarios and painting a picture of how black people struggle in this world because they are black. The original is important, but the Brit Awards version is so much more powerful, you need to listen to it, I’ll link it at the end of this blog, so when you’ve finished reading this you can go listen to it, and again, listen to it, don’t be ignorant.

I apologise if this blog seems a bit rambly, if it jumps all over the place, but this is me taking my raw emotions and trying to process them all, right now I’m not entirely sure what comes next, personally I’m still finding myself, who I am as an individual, I hope that I haven’t been racist in the past, if I have then I apologise, I am going to pay more attention to this issue, to educate myself further on this issue so that I can be more aware of this issue and what I can do to help. In terms of where the world goes, I don’t know, this isn’t gonna be solved overnight, this is gonna be something we deal with for a long time, long after we’re all dead, but we need to start educating people, it’s time we finally owned up to what we have become, it’s time we took responsibility for our mistakes. As white people, we took power away from others and kept it all to ourselves, now it’s time we gave that power back, otherwise we’re just as bad as the monsters we read about, we’re just as bad as Hitler and the Nazis, we may not be doing the same things, but our impacts are still the same.

Which brings me back to the All Lives Matter movement, which argues that all lives matter, not just black lives. Technically yes, all lives do matter, but all lives can’t matter until black lives matter, what you’re actually saying is ‘White Lives Matter’. You’re scared of losing your privilege, you’re scared because you feel you have to take responsibility for something you don’t want to, so instead you argue that all lives are equal so things must remain the same. But all lives aren’t equal, that’s clearly been shown, why are you so scared? What do you have to lose? Or do you not recognise just how much privilege you have as a white person? Let me take a page from Dave, let me ask you this? What do you think white is?... ... ...Got an answer? Ok. Let me tell you what white is.

White is living in a cosy neighbourhood surrounded by big houses and wealthy neighbours where hardly any crime happens.

White is complaining to the barista that they got your order wrong, and that’s the worst thing that happens to you all day.

White is getting into university and spending your time drinking at parties.

White is climbing up the career ladder faster than everyone else because the boss thinks you’re trustworthy.

White is making yourself the victim without taking any responsibility for the problems that you caused.

White is committing serious crimes but only getting a fraction of the recommended prison time.

White is complaining about foreigners taking opportunities that you’re too lazy to take.

White is walking down the street without people judging you.

White is not being immediately suspected for a crime.

White is choosing which history is saved and which history is destroyed.

White has really got a sour taste to it, here’s a taste of it, but white is all I know, and I’m ashamed of it.

[frcmupabove-blog]

 questions addressed to your muse.

▌WHAT IS YOUR REAL NAME?  

❝ Greetings, I am Peach Toadstool. ❞

▌WHAT IS YOUR /REAL/ NAME?

❝ …Oh, I beg your pardon, but I already said it! Did you not hear me properly? That’s fine! I am Princess Peach Toadstool, though you don’t have to be so formal with me if you don’t want to! Relax, royalty I may be but I’m not going to be upset if you simply call me Peach. ❞

▌DO YOU KNOW WHY YOU WERE CALLED THAT?

❝ It was the name my parents gave to me! Cute, isn’t it? I’m really glad they chose it for me. I don’t think I would have been happy with any name - OH! That makes me sound selfish, doesn’t it? My apologizes. ❞

▌ARE YOU SINGLE OR TAKEN?

❝ U-Um... If it’s all the same with you, may you please not ask such personal questions? ❞

▌HAVE ANY ABILITIES OR POWERS?

❝ I’ve got a few, yes. I’m not as physically strong as Mario, not as good as jumper as Luigi, etc. However! I can float in mid-air for a bit. I wonder if that makes the brothers jealous...? My parasol can also slow down any falls I may happen to have. Apparently, I have pretty strong magic as well. ❞

▌WHAT’S YOUR EYE COLOUR?

❝ A lovely blue. ❞

▌HOW ABOUT YOUR HAIR COLOUR?

❝ Ah, blonde. Doesn’t it look simply wonderful?  ❞

▌HAVE YOU ANY FAMILY MEMBERS?

❝ Of course! The Mushroom King and Queen, the figures who ruled this kingdom before me!  ❞

▌OH? WHAT ABOUT PETS?

❝ Luigi, being the treasure he is, gave me a yoshi egg with purple spots! When the egg hatched, a yoshi emerged! I named her Petunia, a name fitting for a purple-colored yoshi, no? She’s simply the most darling thing!~ ❞

▌THAT’S COOL, I GUESS. NOW TELL ME ABOUT SOMETHING YOU DON’T LIKE.

❝ What don’t I like? I guess I really don’t like it when people scorn the Mario Brothers. They can say of me as they will, but those two are heroes and they deserve to be treated with respect. ❞

▌DO YOU HAVE ANY HOBBIES/ACTIVITIES YOU LIKE TO DO?

❝ I love to bake! I’m quite good at if, it I may add. Baking treats for my friends is so rewarding, because of the smiles I receive when I hand them a platter of cookies. I also like reading as well, so relaxing.❞

▌EVER HURT ANYONE BEFORE?

❝ I-I may have, in self-defense. I feel incredibly guilty about it!❞

▌EVER KILLED ANYONE BEFORE?

❝ …NO! I have a strict moral code! I shall not do grievous harm unto anyone! To even consider the thought...! ❞

▌WHAT KIND OF ANIMAL ARE YOU?

❝ I am human. Oh wait, was this question asking what I would be if I wasn’t human? I suppose I’d be a dove! They do symbolize peace, do they not?❞ 

▌NAME SOME OF YOUR WORST HABITS.

❝ My kindness is a both a flaw and a blessing. I’ve heard that people follow me BECAUSE of my demeanor, but also I am more eligible to being tricked due to me wanting to see the best in people -- even if they don’t deserve it.  My self-sacrificing nature, as well. I just want people to be happy... At the cost of my own well-being and happiness.❞

▌DO YOU LOOK UP TO ANYONE AT ALL?

❝ I’d say it’s more of the opposite. I feel like people look up to me more than I look up to them. I guess this is given, considering I am the highest form of government in the Mushroom Kingdom. But yes, I do have people I look up to. I look up to Mario for his bravery in willing to defeat any foe that comes his way! Not to mention his brother, Luigi, being able to face his fears for those he loves... Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ramble. We’d be here all day if I listed everyone I looked up to. ❞

▌GAY, STRAIGHT, OR BISEXUAL?

❝ My my, you really are trying to pry into my life, aren’t you? I’m none of these. ❞

▌DO YOU GO TO SCHOOL?

❝ I had Toadsworth teach me everything I needed to know before I took my place on the throne! He’s taught me well. ❞

▌DO YOU EVER WANT TO MARRY AND HAVE KIDS ONE DAY?

❝ Possibly... ❞

▌DO YOU HAVE ANY FANBOYS/FANGIRLS?

❝ Oh, I’m sure! Giving my status, after all... I think it’s to be expected. ❞

▌WHAT ARE YOU MOST AFRAID OF?

❝ I-I’d rather not say, I’m sorry. I don’t want to d-discuss my fears... ❞

▌WHAT DO YOU USUALLY WEAR?

❝ I’m usually seen in my royal gown - a lovely and elegant pink one that goes all the way to the ground and has puffy sleeves, along with darker pink panniers and a hem that is of the same color. Oh, I almost forgot to mention the royal crown as well. For pretty much everything except various sporting events, I have it in. I have to represent my kingdom somehow, no? ❞

▌DO YOU LOVE SOMEONE?

❝ Oh goodness...! This seems a tad bit too personal, don’t you think? ❞

▌WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU WET YOURSELF?

❝ You’re asking a LADY a question like this?!  ❞

▌WHAT CLASS ARE YOU?

❝ I hope I’m not bragging when I say this... I’m royalty, a crown princess.  Wait, are you bowing to me? Be at ease, you’re fine, dear. ❞

▌HOW MANY FRIENDS DO YOU HAVE?

❝ I have a select few very good friends who would do anything for me, and likewise I would do anything for them. On top of that, I have many admirers and followers, which I am grateful for. ❞

▌WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS ON PIE?

❝ Mmmmm!~ I love pie, and I love baking pie as well! There are some flavors of pie that I just adore! ❞

▌FAVOURITE DRINK?

❝ I looooove tea!~ ❞

▌WHAT’S YOUR FAVOURITE PLACE?

❝ My castle! ( When it’s not being overrun with Bowser and his Koopa Troop. ) It’s my home!  ❞

▌ARE YOU INTO SOMEONE~?

❝ Wait, didn’t you already ask me something akin to this? ❞

▌WOULD YOU RATHER SWIM IN THE LAKE OR IN THE OCEAN?

❝ I don’t swim often, so I don’t really mind either way. ❞

▌WHAT’S YOUR TYPE?

❝ I’m afraid you’ll have to be a bit more specific. My type of what? ❞

▌CAMPING OR INDOORS?

❝ I’m indoors a majority of the time, busy ruling a kingdom, but I do like the outdoors too. Surprising, right? I know, but even princesses have to go outside every once and a while. ❞

…

❝ Thank you for your time! That was lovely. ❞

TAGGED BY:  i stole this from @sternenteile oops! TAGGING: um um you!

[poutypanic]

Finding Purpose Chapter 9

Rated Mature. Fem!Reader. 

AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10529928/chapters/24994224

Chapter Summary: Ana and a large group of others go away on a mission. Leaving you and Hanzo, with a small group of others behind. There are some shenanigans and then, some stuff and things happen. Here's a hug (⊃｡•́‿•̀｡)⊃.

Fic Summary: You've been living alone in Hanamura for the past five years, and are content to stay that way. You have a troubled past and have let it isolate you. One night a ruckus is coming from the Shimada Castle. Against your better judgment you check it out, eventually, you end up befriending an archer with a past as equally troubling as yours.This is a romance/fluff and slow burn, coupled with action and angst.

The halls of the Watchpoint have been eerily quiet as of late. Most agents, save for a small group, are gone. Ana had insisted that taking more agents than necessary on their current mission could prove to be more of a weakness than a strength. Torbjorn had been one of the agents benched, but he joyfully informed everyone he will be using the time to go and visit his family. Satya also was left behind but be seems to be a person who values her alone time. You understand, so you don't bother her. McCree is also in the facility somewhere. Though he might have dipped out, as it’s been a few days since you last saw him.

It is a lovely day out. It’s the middle of fall, but the temperature is in the low sixties. The clouds keep the sun from being too harsh, and the air smells especially fresh today. Not that either you or Hanzo are paying any attention to the weather, because he’s been trying to teach you how to properly climb. Unfortunately for him, you’re not an easy student. You’ve spent a good portion of your morning using the rock climbing wall in the facility getting in practice for the real thing. Hanzo had been patient with you up until this particular moment. And even now he’s still showing a lot of restraint.

Hanzo had found a section of the facility that’s made up of different materials than the other sides. It’s got plenty of places for grip and is similar to the rock climbing wall. Before Hanzo had climbed up onto the roof, he had laid out a path for you that in his opinion is “child's play.” Now he’s on the roof looking down at you refusing to follow him up there.

“Climbing is an essential skill!”

“You’re the archer here. You gain the advantage from being up high. What do I gain from being up that high? It’s not essential for me to learn to climb.”

Hanzo looks like he’s just heard the dumbest series of sentences. He takes caution before saying anything else at the risk of coming off arrogant, “You gain safety by being up high. From enemies, such as yourself, who would be able to kill you easily on the ground. That...is what you gain.”

“Hmm, you make a good argument!”

He points to the top of the roof, “Get. Up. Here!”

“But I don’t wanna; I’m just gonna fall.”

“You will not fall. If you do this…” He sighs, “I will reward you.”

You gasp and place a hand on your chest, “Really now?”

He nods and gives you a sly smile.

You shrug, “You’d let me have it either way.”

“Do not test me!”

There’s movement on the other side of the building that catches your eye. You instantly start to cackle when you see it’s McCree, leaning around the corner, a cigarillo in his mouth, and a silly grin on his face.

“Y’all have some real odd foreplay.” He steps out from behind the wall, looks up towards Hanzo, and then back to you, “Stop bein’ a chicken. If I were you, I’d already be up there.”

“Damn, you’re right,” you say loud enough that McCree can hear you, but low enough that Hanzo can’t.  

McCree chuckles at your friendly response. You shake out your nervousness, clap your hands together, and wink at Hanzo. Hanzo thinks that is the most ridiculous sight. He’s trying to be serious with you right now, but a deep belly laugh is threatening to make him break. So he says, “Do. Not. Wink at me!”

You nearly get yourself onto the wall but wuss out at the last second. You groan, “I’m sorry!”

“There are no prizes for holding back!”

McCree is having a delightful time and thinks this is the most entertaining thing he’s seen all week. He bends over placing his elbow on his knees, the cigarillo still dangling out of his mouth, and it doesn’t look like it’s lit anymore.

He slaps his knees once and says, “Get’cher ass up there!”

Once you finally get yourself going, it’s easy. You’re currently in the best physical condition you’ve ever been in your life, and Hanzo is an excellent trainer. You make it up and over with no slip ups. McCree hoots and claps for you, and Hanzo claps along with him. Hanzo’s got a big smile for you, and that alone is well worth the climb.

“Sublime!”

McCree calls up to you guys, “Y’all have fun now!”

You try to reach out to Hanzo. You had sweet intentions, and a simple hug would have sufficed. But apparently, he was being serious about your reward. He grabs a hold of your wrist and uses it to flip you around. Hanzo presses his whole body against yours. While he’s holding your arm against your stomach, his other hand glides down into your needy space. There he massages moans and whines from you.

He nuzzles his face into your neck as he whispers, “See? That wasn't so hard, was it?”

You grind your butt against his crotch and chuckle, “No. But something else is.”

~

You and Hanzo have been taking full advantage of having the Watchpoint nearly all to yourselves. While one of the implications of that is obvious, the other one includes getting drunk and hanging out in the mess hall. Sitting on top of the tables, eating stupid amounts of food, and playing a virtual game of chess. His tablet is sitting between the two of you, and a neat looking interactive hologram shines about a foot above it.

You’re heckling him, and you think you’re being real funny.

“Oh, no, thats’ a bad move! You shoud'n do that move, 'cause its’ a bad.”

Unlike the last time you were drunk, this time, Hanzo is on your level. He stops what he’s doing to laugh silently.

“Stop—“ When Hanzo is drunk he doesn't slur. What he does is pause and then restart again. The pausing happening more often than the restarting. “Stop— trying, to— you will not get in my head.”

“Baby, I already there. I’m jus’ doin’ you a favor. You’can mess it up if you wanna, go right ahead!”

He hangs his head in his hands, his shoulders shaking from laughter. “I—I, am, not, taking advice from, a person, who is losing.”

“Am I losin’?” You say with exaggerated disbelief.

“Yes!”

You shrug your shoulders, “Fine! Be my guest, I’d love teh’ see ya’ do a dumb move so, entertain me, go a-head, you have my permission.”

“Does your permission, include silence—long enough for me to do, anything?”

“I thought you said you weren’ lettin’ me in your head!”

“I would not be, if you, were, not—such, a heathen!”

You lay back onto the table, laughing and holding onto your side. You couldn’t care less about the chess game. Hanzo doesn’t care either, but he does enjoy playfully arguing with you.

“You’know that's probly’ hurtful!”

The chess game never does get a victor. It’s easily forgotten, and you end up with your head lazily resting against his shoulder. You might be ready to pass out, but you’re enjoying the sight of the dragons and the pup playing far too much to close your eyes just yet. Right now, even the stern one is jumping around, chirping, and having a grand ol’ time.

You muse, “It feels really nice teh’ see that one hav’in fun.”

Hanzo is engrossed in something on his tablet. He puts it down, so he can look at what you’re talking about. When he does, you just happen to see that he is sending a message to Genji.

“Oh, no, no, no!”

You snatch the tablet and lift your butt up, so you can sit on it. It takes far too many moments for Hanzo to even process what happened. After a couple of false started sentences, he manages to get out, “Give, it back.”

“M’ not gonna let you send any sad, ass, drunk messages to ya’ brother, its’ not happen.”

He gently pats your cheek, “You are, talking, like an idiot.”

You cackle, “Ive’ been talkin’ like n’ idiot this whole time! You now only jus’ noticed!”    

Hanzo rests his forehead against your temple, “It is, not sad— you can read it, and approve of it, if you wish.”

You do wish, as you don’t believe him. So you pull the tablet out and look the message over. He wasn’t lying to you. Nothing about the message is sad. Nonsensical? A ramble with good grammar? Yes, but not sad. You approve of the message and let him send it. Genji will no doubt have fun with that one. Hell, he might even love it.

Hanzo hiccups so harshly that he as to clutch his chest and groans. “Oh, I think it, might be time to go to bed.”

~

Another day goes by, and the night comes around. Initially, Hanzo had gone to bed with you. One of the things Angela has taught you is that routine is essential for a healthy sleep schedule. And one of the things that has always been consistent is Hanzo. So when he leaves the bed, it doesn't take long for your body and mind to notice, and consequentially you wake up.

At first, you are so sleep-ridden that you don’t notice why you woke. But then you feel a familiar cold sensation against your back, and your interest is peaked. You look behind you to see the still nameless, stern dragon staring you down. Your immediate reaction is to look around the room for Hanzo, who is nowhere to be found. Your heart starts to race, because something feels off.

You sit up and look the dragon right in the face, “Please take me to him.”

The dragon lets off a soft chirp and nods. It leaps off the bed and leads you out of the room. It gingerly trots down the halls, stopping every once in a while to make sure you are still following. Eventually, the dragon leads you into the briefing room, where Hanzo is sitting at a computer terminal. You softly say his name, and when he looks back at you, he doesn’t look guilty or shocked that you’ve stumbled upon him. Hanzo knew that the dragon would lead you here. In fact, he is grateful that it happened sooner than later. He needs your advice on something that is of great importance to him.

“I would like to preface with, this might sound… ludicrous.”

“I have no problem with that.”

“I am trying to find Genji’s location.” You nod, and he continues, “I think he might be in trouble. I have no tangible evidence. Other than...he has not communicated with me since last night. This is mostly based off of a feeling, but it is a strong one.”

He stops and looks at you waiting for your input, “Okay. So what are we doing about it?”

The only way to explain the expression on his face is that it is one of pure admiration and gratitude. He looks back towards the computer, “Do you know anything about hacking? I am not having much luck.”

You don’t, but you’ll try your hardest. “Move over.”

While you are trying to hack into the mission files, a familiar voice breaks through the concentration.

“What the hell are y’all doin’? Y’all were loud as hell last night, and now ur’ in here doin’ god knows what! What the fuck is goin’ on in here?”

You don’t know it yet, but McCree is wide awake for very similar reasons. The exact same reasons, in fact. McCree, who also communicates with Genji every single day, hasn’t heard from him, and it’s keeping him awake. Hanzo’s feelings must be severe, because he doesn't waste any time letting McCree know the exact truth, unafraid of any judgment.

McCree actually stumbles back, shocked that Hanzo is putting into words exactly what he is worried about, “I know where he’s at.”

Hanzo shoots up out of his seat, “Tell me!”

“I will, but I’m comin’ with you guys. You can’t stop me.”

“I was not going to try to.”

Neither were you. McCree lets the both of you know where Genji is at, and why he is there. You’d question why McCree knows so much and whether he’s actually supposed to know these things, but neither answer would really matter. Genji and Zenyatta have been tasked with “curing” some feral omnics. There is a wear house full of the things.

They all got inflicted with a nasty virus during the war, as a means to turn them against their own allies. They’re all wound up tighter than a spring and ready to tear anything apart that dares cross their path. Genji and Zenyatta have been tirelessly trying to figure out a solution to the problem that doesn't include putting them out of commission. The last time McCree heard it wasn’t going well, and was reaching a point where they’d need to make a hard decision.

The three of you are going to be in big trouble, not that even one of you is worried about this fact. McCree knows how to fly, so you borrow a aircraft and make your way out in the dead of night. Absolutely no one's permission was asked to do this. Ana, and the others, will all be coming back by early evening, and there is no way in hell you guys will make it back in time for Ana to not know that you left. It doesn't matter, however, because you’re all more than willing to deal with the consequences.

With such a high-tech plane at hand, you guys arrive at your destination in little over an hour. McCree lands the plane a safe distance away from the warehouse, and it only takes about fifteen minutes to get there on foot.

You guys stop just short of the facility and duck behind some bushes. You’ve got your harness and are ready to release the bots, so you do. You’re gawking at the warehouse, because it looks like it came right out of a horror movie. It’s dismal, run-down, and looks haunted.

Momentarily, you split up so you guys can find the best way into the building faster. The building is oddly structured. You find yourself at a wall that leads up to a ledge with a heavy duty sliding metal door, so you make your way up it.

“Hey guys, I found an entrance. I’ll see if it goes anywhere useful real quick. Northwest side of the building, make sure to look up.”

Hanzo, “On my way.”

McCree, “Y’all I think I might’ve found Zen. Not too sure, I’ma investigate.”

“Copy that.”

The door is open, but not by a lot. You can shimmy your way through it and see where it goes. But with your harness on, you won't fit. So you take it off and hold it in front of you as you shimmy your way through the small space. Not only is the door tall, but it turns out it’s extremely thick. When you’re about halfway through, you remember, and chastise yourself, for telling two broad-shouldered dudes to come here, to a space they clearly won't fit through. Still, you continue. Maybe it’s a door you can get to open up more.

As you get closer to what seems to be the end, it gets darker and darker. This is a foolish mistake, but at the end, you throw the harness, just so you can have a little more freedom of movement. You think it will be easy to get it back, but it won’t be. When the harness hits the floor you hear many loud hisses of hostility towards it. This makes you pause for a lengthy amount of time. Whatever is making that noise doesn't sound in any way friendly or like anything you want to deal with.

You’re not going to have a choice in the matter. One misplaced step sends you tumbling onto an unforgiving concrete floor. The things that hissed at the harness are now hissing at you. You remain as still as possible, every muscle in your body cramping up with fear. Lucky for you, the things that are surrounding you on all sides go back to their neutral state.

It takes you nearly fifteen minutes to stand up. Hanzo is sounding off in your ear, letting you know that he is here, but cannot get through the space, just as you had thought. However, you’re too afraid to speak, thinking that any noise is going to set off the things around you. The bots have provided you with a helpful night vision. And you can see that you are standing amongst the hundreds of feral omnics that Genji and Zenyatta have been trying to help.

You don’t know what the hell you are supposed to do next. Hanzo is desperately trying to get you to talk to him. It’s breaking your heart, but you are still so scared. Then things get worse. Much, much worse. An all too familiar black smoke catches your eye.

Stress tears start to form in your eyes. If the Reaper is here, then you are fucked. How are you supposed to deal with him and hundreds of feral omnics? The Reaper ghosts behind you and wraps a tentacle of smoke around your neck. An overwhelming feeling of bile bubbles up in your belly. The Reaper isn’t trying to kill you. That’s not how he wants it to happen, as he’s got bigger, more creative plans for that.

He whispers into your ear, “I think friendly fire is one of the most tragic ways to go, don’t you think?”

He hums in your ear, and it makes you feel even sicker. Then he leaves. Just like that, he goes. Doesn't do a thing to you. Leaving you to contemplate what the fuck he was talking about.

Suddenly a bright light shines from above, and the omnics are not happy about this at all. It's coming from yet another door that is placed unreasonably high up. How is anyone expected to be able to leave this room? Maybe that’s the point of its design, nobody is supposed to be able to leave. You look up to see an unfamiliar woman. She’s got Genji hooked under her arms, and she’s getting ready to drop him amidst all the beings he’s been trying to help.

She lets him fall hard onto the floor, and he hits with a loud reverberating smack. That’s enough to give you the nerve you need to speak up. Your voice is quiet, so quiet you’re surprised either of them can hear you.

“Genji is here. He’s here, he’s hurt, and we’re in trouble.”

Hanzo sighs heavily, “I will find a different way in.”

You would have liked to tell him good luck, but as the very first syllable comes out of your mouth, an omnic snaps it’s attention to you, stealing away any other words you have for Hanzo.

Genji is horribly mangled. Large parts of him are missing. An arm and a leg are just gone. The woman then throws a katana down after him, and it drops onto the floor just shy of Genji’s face. The omnics are starting to lose it. With the light, you can see clearly that they are caked over with rust and dirt. They are so dirty that they look nearly pitch black and look a hell of a lot like you.  

It instantly clicks that this is extremely bad for you. You get yourself moving, taking extremely careful steps, making sure you don’t disturb any of the omnics. You’re going to have to chance talking loud enough, so that Genji can hear you. He needs to know that you're here. Just as you are about to call out to Genji, a loud blaring noise sounds off. It sends the omnics into absolute madness, and the only clear target they have to throw their aggression at is Genji, who is still illuminated by the cruel and harsh light. You know he can’t hear you, but still, you call out his name.

As the omnics advance on him, you try your damnedest to make your way through the fray. But the more you push and shove, the more they realize that you, too, are a threat to them. So they start to tug and pull at your limbs, hell bent on tearing you apart, and God does it hurt. They are much stronger than you'd ever hope to be, and no matter how much you use your close quarters' skills to try and get away from them, nothing works. When you get one off of you, another is latching on. You narrowly avoid getting your arms and legs pulled from their sockets.

You look to Genij, who is now desperately trying to reach for his sword, but he can’t get to it. Several of the omnics have reached him and are trying to do the same thing to him that they are doing to you. With the katana still laying out of reach, you watch as an enormous dragon pulls itself from it. Brilliant, just as breathtaking and magnificent as Hanzo’s on the beach. But this one is a bright green color that is nearly blinding in such a closed space. Every omnic that it tears its way through, melts and sizzles, all of their wires and parts liquefying into terrifying pools on the ground.

Due to the loud and powerful dragon that is careening its way towards them, the omnics let you go, now focused on something much more threatening than you are. It dawns on you in a terrible wave of terror that you’re not going to be spared its wrath. This is exactly what the Reaper wants. It would seem he’d like you all to die in the most heart-wrenching ways possible. You take this opportunity to do the only thing that might save your life, you run. This dragon doesn't know you, and as it's decimating the omnics, it’s obvious that your bots have no chance at protecting you from it.

The loud blaring noise that sent the omnics into their extreme aggression has ceased. Now you are left with the unrelenting roaring of a dragon who will do anything to protect its master, and the mad screeching of hundreds of livid, dying omnics.

You find yourself down a hall, pushing yourself past even more of the omnics. This hall has an end, with a wall that is smooth and unclimbable. The roaring continues and will reach you soon. With your back pressed up against the dead end, the bots make a last ditch attempt to save your life. They retreat, faster than they ever have before. They think that perhaps if the dragon can see that you are human, it will let you live.

Hot tears run down your face. You don’t want to die, but it seems you're not going to have a choice in the matter. You slide down the smooth surface and close your eyes tight, preparing yourself for immense pain. The powerful roar is overwhelming now, so loud you think your ears might start to bleed. The creature is merely a couple of feet away from you now. That cliche notion that life flashes before your eyes before you die? It’s true.

Your world falls into deafening silence, and for a moment you think you must be in the afterlife. But once the blood starts to clear from your ears, you realize you can still feel your heart beating.

Chirp! Chirp!

Your whole entire body is shaking, and you can’t believe what you are hearing.

Chirp! Chirp!

You’re too afraid to open your eyes. Like perhaps you might be in a suspended state, and the enormous deadly creature is still getting ready to melt the flesh from your body.

Chirp! Chirp!

You managed to peel your eyes open. Sitting there, slamming its tail against the floor in a fervent fashion, is a medium, dog-sized dragon, with the same friendly demeanor as the ones you are more familiar with. Except this one is desperately trying to get you to follow it. When it sees that it has your attention it starts to jump around, slamming its front paws into the ground, and starts to chirp incessantly.

It’s obvious what it’s trying to get you to do. The problem is you can’t feel your body at the moment. You close your eyes and focus on your breathing, all while the creature is still yelling at you. Hanzo and McCree have been talking to you this whole entire time and still are. It’s only now that your psyche has let their voices register again.

McCree, “Come on now friend, you gotta talk to us! Ya’ better not do this shit.”

Your throat is dry, making you sound hoarse, “I’m not dead."

Hanzo is trying his best not to be upset, but you can still hear in his voice that he is angry. You understand; he’s allowed to be, “Was that a dragon?”

Oh, so they could hear the carnage. “Yes, it was,” you refrain from telling him how close you came to being a victim of the dragon's wrath. “I think we’re safe for right now. I’ll figure out a way out of here. McCree, did you find Zenyatta?”

McCree, “Yeah I found the Zen. He ain’t in good shape neither. Gonna need lots’a new parts.”

The first time you get up, you fall right back onto the floor. Your legs feel like shaky jello. The dragon hops around you, unrelenting in its pursuit to try and get you to follow it. The second time you get up, you manage to stay on your feet. As you follow the dragon, it stops several times to make sure you aren't going to walk over any of the piles of goo on the floor. It wants you to follow its exact path.

You do. You let it guide you to exactly where you need to be. As you approach Genji, he is slumped against the wall, his head rolled over to the side.

Hanzo sounds winded, and is that pain in his voice? “I am having setbacks, I will be there shortly.”

“Hanzo just take care of yourself. We’re not in danger anymore. We’ll manage, just meet us back at the aircraft.”

“Are you absolutely sure?”

“Yes, I’m positive.”

Every time the comm would buzz, you could hear gun shots. The Reaper and that woman must be giving him hell. The dragon takes a seat next to its master and cocks its head from side to the side. You kneel down in front of him, “Genji? Hey bud, you awake?”

You need him to be awake. He’s still got one good leg, and that’ll be enough to help you get him the hell out of here. His eyes flutter open, and the man smiles.

“I sure hope I am not dead. It would be tragic if you’re here too.”

Ridiculous, “This look like the afterlife to you?”

He shrugs, “Only the dead know what it really looks like.”

“Alright, Plato, you’re not dead okay?”

“Ah, happy to hear it.”

“You ready to get the hell outa dodge?”

“Yes, but my friend—.”

“Zenyatta? The cowboy already got him. We’re good to go.”

Genji chuckles, “Alright, then. Let's get out of here.”

Before you help him up, you ask him, “Are you in any pain?”

“No. My mind is weary, and so is my soul, but I am not in pain.”

You actually have no idea how to get out of this room. Your mind snaps back to how you told Hanzo you didn't need any help. Why the hell did you do that? Lucky for you, the dragon has got it handled. It’s chirping and hopping in a corner of the room. Before getting Genji, you check what it's trying to point out to you.

The dragon is showing you a vent. It's low to the ground and rusted over, but you’re able to kick it in with little effort. It's not exactly big, but you’ll both manage. You let Hanzo know that it might take a while for you guys to make it out of the building, because Genji can only move so fast right now.

As you’re helping Genji get to where he needs to be, you can see the look on his face shift as he takes in the hundreds of piles of what used to be the feral omnics. You can only imagine how he must be feeling. Seeing all of the things he had been trying to save, ruined, by his own dragon. You’d try and make him feel better about it. It’s not his fault; it’s the Reapers, but now's really not the time. And you’re not the right person for that job, anyway.

Getting through the vent is nearly comical. Actually, it is. You knock your head against all four sides trying to look back to see how Genji is fairing. And Genji is not fairing well, because only one of his arms is fully functional, while the other is barely helpful. Every once in a while Hanzo will ask, in a shockingly mellow tone, for a status update, and you always simply state, “Still in the vent.”

Then you have the brilliant idea that if you shimmied ahead a little bit, he could reach out, grab your ankle, and pull himself forward. Without any grip for you to hang on to, what happened instead, is that he just ended up pulling you back. So you're back where you started, and he didn’t move an inch. It feels like it takes an hour to finally make it out the other side. In reality, it only took twenty minutes, but still, that's a long time.

Hanzo, “The Reaper, and the sniper have retreated. Still, take caution when getting to the aircraft.”

“Got it. We’re finally out of the vent and on our way.”

You both make it back safely. As you approach, Hanzo is standing in the open hangar, on high alert, bow in hand, and an arrow ready. When he sees you, he throws the bow onto the ground and helps you get Genji into the craft faster. McCree is looming over an omnic you are assuming to be Zenyatta. He wasn’t kidding when he said he’d need new parts, and he doesn’t seem to be conscious.  

When McCree looks back to see Genji his eyes light up with an assortment of emotions. God, he is happy to see him, but he’s also fighting heavy sorrow, due to the terrible shape he is in. When you set Genji down, McCree is already at his side, “Hey partner, what’n the hell you get yourself into huh?”

Hanzo’s attention is fixed on Genji. Seeing him in person again after so long, and in such dismal conditions, seems to be taking a toll. Except, there is something more there in his facial expression that makes your stomach drop.

“Han? Are you okay?”

He nods.

That a lie, and you know it. “Jesse, I’m really not trying to be insensitive, but we need to get going.”

“Na, your’ right. We’ll have plenty’a time to caught up once wer' safe.”

You don’t see Jesse give Genji a quick kiss on the forehead, before he hops up to go get the aircraft going. You’re too focused on Hanzo, quickly inspecting him for the cause of the ill look. It doesn't take you long to find it: a deep dark red spot that runs down the length of his clothes on his right side. You place a hand on his chest as you lift up the cloth to reveal a bullet wound.

“Oh, my—Hanzo! Sit down, right now!” You help guide him onto the floor, you’re suddenly very upset with him, “What the hell is wrong with you? How dare you not tell me you got shot.” With more quiet volition, “Why would you keep this from us?”

No answer.  

Genji tries to get up, but can’t. “Where brother?”

Hanzo doesn't answer, so you answer for him, “His back, close to his lungs.”

You leave Hanzo sitting on the ground to go find medical supplies. He must be in shock, has to be in shock, there’s no way he would deliberately hide such a life-threatening wound on purpose. You’re in denial, and refuse to believe that. It hurts too much to think so. You’re going to have to deal with the truth of the matter later.

As you’re gathering heaps of gauze, and dressings you tell Jesse, “Hey we need to get in contact with Ana, let her know Hanzo’s hurt so Dr. Zeigler can—“

“Already did friend, she’s been tryna’ get ahold of us this whole time, she got notified the moment we took the aircraft fer'a joy ride. We’re in for one hell’of’a tongue lashin’.”

You don’t give a fuck about getting chewed out right now. All you want to know is that someone will be there to help Hanzo at the base. Hanzo’s finally taken some initiative, he’s removed his sleeve before you got back, so that you have clear access to his wound. Your heart is racing. To the eye, it doesn't look all that bad. But this is bringing you back to that truck bed with the little boy you couldn’t save. As always there is only so much you can do, and right now all you can do is dress his wound and apply pressure to keep it from bleeding any more than it already has.

If he’s got an injury on the inside, like a damaged organ, or internal bleeding; then you can’t, you wouldn’t be able to…

You rest your forehead up against his shoulder blade, and shut your eyes tight. Your heart is breaking, and you’re trying to keep yourself from being angry. Your eyes are threatening to let the tears fall again. You’ve got your palm firmly pressed against the wound. If Hanzo’s in pain he’s not letting it show. You’ll keep the pressure as long as you have to.

Your left leg is thrown out next to him, Hanzo places a hand on your knee, his grip isn't strong, but it’s still enough to help you believe that he’s going to be okay.

Genji says your name, “Has my brother ever told you any stories about our childhood?”

“A few.” Your words have an unwanted crack in them, but it was all that you could manage.

“Hmpf! Let me tell you about this one time, when we were very young; Hanzo? You must have been, ten? Me, seven? Surely you remember the time—” Genji has a hard time telling the story, because he has to stop to laugh between segments, “We were watching a movie in a theatre, and Hanzo, you, you— you burped so loud that the lady— the lady in front of us,” Genji says your name to ensure that you are still listening. “I am telling you, the lady in front of us smacked her husband on the back of the head so hard, he lifted up out of his seat, cause she thought it came from him!”

Hanzo finishes with, “They got into such a heated argument they had to leave, heh.”

Jesse chimes in, “How come ya’ never told me that one Genji?”

“Some stories are best told with the person they happened with.”

Hanzo laughs weakly, “We had far too much soda that day.”

“Well, it was the appropriate amount for two kids who were having a burping contest, don’t you think?”

“Yes, I suppose it was.”

“Fortunately for our own entertainment, some of it chose to stick with you, unfortunate, for that man and his wife.”

Nobody in this aircraft is in a good place. Some are worried, while others are torn apart or hurt. Genji insists on telling more stories, and you are grateful. You understand what he’s doing, and will have to remember to thank him later. Getting back to the Watchpoint is easy. Everyone is already back, and Ana is waiting for you guys in the hangar.  

The doctor gets straight to work on helping Hanzo. Genji and Zenyatta are crippled but they will survive without immediate help, Hanzo will not. She is appalled by the number of people who are in her infirmary, and only allows a couple people to stay to assist. You are vehemently told you will not be one of them. At least before you leave she tries to assure you that Hanzo will be okay, it could have been far worse. You believe her, but it doesn't make you feel any better.

Ana gives those who are able to listen to her a tongue lashing like you’ve never received before. You could push back on her words. There are plenty of reasons why you guys were justified in leaving, but really you don't have the energy, or the gusto to argue back. All of your brain power is so caught up in stressing over Hanzo, that it doesn’t even hurt that she’s pissed. In fact, it’s a welcome distraction

[hailey-halstead]

Cookies and Cream

lol i really only had to add one line and then i was finished! guess i was closer to being finished than i thought! anyways, hope you enjoy! it's their first date!!! i don't own anything😊 ps—can you guys guess what my favorite line from this fic is? hint: it made me giggle lol —��————— "I cannot believe you did that." Sylvie couldn't help but blush when Antonio brought up her sampling all the ice cream incident. It was impulsive, she knew that, and it could have possibly ruined the date as it was also slightly catty. But he had found it to be hilarious, so all was well. "I can't believe it either." She admitted with a laugh, taking a bite out of her cookies and cream ice cream. "He just made me mad." She looked up and shrugged her shoulders at her date. Then she self-consciously wondered if she made it seem like she had a bad temper. During their date she has felt comfortable, but like with every first one, you have to have a few nerves. "Well, not mad. More irritated than anything. Like did he ever hear of the word patience?" Antonio didn't seem put off by her comments. "Apparently not." They continued walking down the streets of Chicago, eating their ice cream. They had nowhere in particular to go, just decided to enjoy the nice evening weather. They had actually walked from Sylvie's apartment. They had plans on riding in Antonio's car, but decided to walk to the ice cream shop. "God, that look on that guy's face though....." He shook his head in disbelief, a wide smile on his face. "Completely badass." "Well, I'm flattered that you think so." She took a bite of her ice cream. Cookies and cream was definitely the right choice. "You learn some things when you spend your time with Gabby twenty four seven." "I'm sure you learned some on your own." He tried to give her credit, but Sylvie shook her head as she began to recall when she first moved to Chicago. "God, you should have seen me when I first moved to Chicago." She couldn't help but cringe at the memory of her younger, naive self. "I moved into a bad neighborhood, because the rent was cheap. Should had realized that safety takes priority over cost of an apartment. And that I shouldn't leave my money on the dining table." His eyes widened at that comment. "Anyways, one day I left my door unlocked, and a burglar got in. Honestly, I'm surprised it took that long for someone to get in." "Okay, that is pretty bad." Antonio told her. "But I can't tell you how many situations I've seen over the years like that." "Oh! But I can give myself some credit." She remembered the rest of her story. "Chased him off with a baseball bat." She said proudly. He nudged his shoulder against hers. "I don't think Gabby taught you that in that short amount of time." He complimented her. "That is true." She conceded, fully aware of how close the two of them were walking, their shoulders brushing with every step. With him not complaining, or making any motions to move, she assumed that he was just as fine with it as she was. "I guess I always had it, maybe." She thoughtfully said, wondering why she was having this realization tonight of all nights. "Maybe with me living in the same small town all my life it was hidden...Had to get away to find myself...." She mused. Antonio was quiet next to her, seeming captivated by what she was talking about. Why, she had no clue. "Sorry," She apologized, this was a night for the both of them and she was talking about herself. "I tend to ramble when I'm nervous." "I make you nervous?" He asked, but said so with a tiny smile. Clearly her response had pleased him. Sylvie couldn't help but make a face at him, knowing what he was doing. "Yes, you do." She said, then directed the question right back at him. "What about you?" He stopped walking, turning himself directly towards her. "I don't remember the last time I've been this nervous." He truthfully told her. "And I get shot at for a living." His sincerity sent her into a slight loop, she wasn't expecting such a response. "I wish I could say the same." The words stumbled out, as she tried to regain control of them. He seemed so eloquent compared to her. This thought made their age difference come into mind, something she normally didn't besides herself over but she was in a situation of vulnerability. "But honestly, I've had a gun pointed at me before and that's pretty nerve wracking." She rambled, becoming more flustered by the fact they were standing still and not moving forward. She was looking directly into his eyes, and God were his eyes beautiful, not helping her situation at all. Antonio clutched his chest, acting offended. "You're bruising my ego." He said, but didn't seem to mind at all. Had he stopped smiling at all tonight Sylvie wondered. She reached forward to lightly brush his arm, pretending to comfort him. "I think you'll be okay." It took a rude glance from a passing pedestrian for Sylvie to realize that they were standing in the middle of the sidewalk. "We better keep walking," She said, gesturing for them to go. They began to walk again, strolling through downtown Chicago. And as soon as she threw away her ice cream cup a block later, he took her hand into his. She could get used to this, she thought gleefully to herself. Here she was, 30 years old, but she was acting more giddy than when she was 16. "I don't find myself getting to enjoy the city anymore." Antonio brought up, as he looked around at their surroundings. "It's kind of hard to when you're chasing criminals all the time. Can't really stop and enjoy the view." "I get what you mean." Sylvie agreed with him. "Except the not chasing criminals part. That would be replaced with patching people up and keeping them alive until they get to the hospital." "Much more noble." He complimented her job, causing her to blush. Yes, she loved her job and was extremely proud to be a paramedic, but over the years she has been constantly compared to other medical professions. So it was huge to hear from Antonio that he thought her job was superior to his. He might be just saying it to make her feel better, but it still worked. But she couldn't help but voice her surprise. "Really?" "Absolutely. You and Gabby do amazing work. Yeah, I know being a cop is great and important, and I help people as well. I'm not dogging my profession here," He made sure to let her know. "But having to literally save a life, right in front of you..." "How about we just both agree we work some pretty incredible jobs?" Sylvie offered, squeezing his hand. "So you can stop cutting yourself down." "I'm not cutting myself down," He corrected her. "Just rising you up. Two different things." "What happened to the guy who replied to my magic hands comment with 'I bet'?" She tilted her head at him, feeling victorious at the sight of his cheeks turning red. "Ha! I guess you are human!" She teased. "I can be nervous and also comfortable." He told her with a laugh. "Even though that night was under totally different circumstances." "How so?" She was curious to hear his response. "I was taking a chance approaching you at Molly's. I didn't know what was going to happen." "And so you're confident tonight?" She rose an eyebrow at him. "How are you sure that I am not having the worst time of my life right now?" Antonio took her off to the side, getting out of the way of passing pedestrians. But to her amazement, they had reached her apartment building already. Had they already walked for that long? He leaned forward, his face only inches from her's. "Are you having the worst time of your life right now?" Her eyes couldn't help but look back and forth from his eyes to his mouth. Plus the fact that she could feel his breathing didn't help at all. "You're a jerk." She complained, making a face at him. He, somewhat impossibly, got closer. "I didn't know just asking a simple question makes me a jerk." "If you don't move—" She began to warn him, knowing that if he stayed for another second longer, she wouldn't be able to resist the urge to kiss him. "If I don't move, what's going to hap—" Sylvie cut him off, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her lips against his. He eagerly responded, his lips tasting like the chocolate ice cream he was eating minutes prior. They only separated seconds later when she heard an obnoxious catcall, reminding her they were still very much in the public eye. "Well—" "Do you want me to walk you in?" He offered, gesturing to the tall apartment building. Tempting, but she knew she had to decline. "If you walk me up to my door, I think I'm going to end up pulling you inside." She told him seriously, giving him a look. She then took a deep breath, about to become more vulnerable. "I know this is going to contradict what happened a few days ago, but um, at least today, I think we should end here." She then made awkward hand movements, trying to gesture to him that she meant right in front of the building. "I think that's a good idea." He softly agreed. Sylvie couldn't hold back a smile. "Thank you, for today. I had a great time." "I had a great time too." He repeated, and to her surprise, leaned in and kissed her cheek. "See you soon?" She held up her phone, waving it slightly. "You can text or call." She told him, but then wanted him to know that she could as well. "I mean, I can too, I just—" "I get it, Sylvie." He stopped her with a laugh. They parted ways, and after she traveled up to her apartment, she couldn't hold back her glee when her phone vibrated, signaling a text from Antonio. Friday? The text read. She began to smile. I'm free:) She texted back. When he texted back the word perfect, she had to prevent herself from responding, not wanting to seem to eager. But God, was it Friday yet? *** "Well you're in a cheery mood." Stella commented as Sylvie was putting away her clothes in her locker. It was the beginning of their shift, but she was still riding high from last night, this early work time was definitely not getting her down. She shrugged, not wanting to be too gossipy and open. A part of her enjoyed knowing that yesterday's experience was only between her and Antonio. Also they weren't alone. Severide, Mouch, and Herrmann were in the locker room as well. "Any reason?" The female firefighter continued to press when they were leaving the room. But Sylvie refused to budge. "What are you trying to get out of Brett?" Gabby was now approaching them, a confused look on her face. Sylvie then knew she wouldn't be able to keep the secret for much longer. She had to have known about last night. "She's in a really good mood." Stella was getting frustrated, she certainly didn't like to be kept out of the loop. "I'm trying to figure out why." Gabby frowned. Hope soared in Sylvie's heart, maybe her partner wouldn't put the pieces together and she would be able to go through the day without being constantly asked questions. Stella continued talking. "I was about to ask if she got laid or something—" "I didn't get laid—" Sylvie protested. And that was the truth. They had just made out outside of her apartment building. With that, Gabby groaned. "Last night was your date, right?" Sheepishly, Sylvie nodded. This intrigued Stella even more. She began to hit Sylvie's arm in excitement. "What the hell, girl!" She exclaimed. "You had a date! Why is this the first time I'm hearing of it??? Who was he?" She threw tons of questions at her. "It's not a big deal, guys—" Sylvie tried to brush off the importance. But who was she kidding! That date with Antonio was definitely the best one she had ever been on. "Don't you want to hear what he said about it?" Gabby asked with a raised eyebrow. Sylvie immediately turned towards her, with a dropped jaw and widened eyes. "Really? He said something?" She resisted the urge to grab onto her and start begging. "Did he have a good time?" Antonio had said that he enjoyed their date, but he could have been lying to not hurt her feelings! "Do you really think I talked to my brother in the timespan from last night to this morning?" She laughed, as Sylvie realized her friend was only teasing her. Her face turned red. She had acted like a school girl with a crush. "What!? Antonio Dawson!?" Stella yelped. Sylvie's eyes immediately went around the break room, seeing if anyone was listening. At the outburst, a few head's had popped up, but then went back down, showing no interest. "Shouldn't this be talked about over drinks?" She tried to end the conversation. She would feel much better about discussing this at Molly's. "Who can wait that long!" Stella wasn't having it. "Seriously? Antonio freakin' Dawson. How did you snag that piece of—" "Hey! Sister right here." Gabby butted in, a disgusted look on her face, guessing what Stella was about to say. "Please mind your language." Sylvie used Gabby's uncomfortableness to her own advantage. "I don't want to make Gabby feel weird, so—" "Come on! Gabby can handle it." Stella was not giving up. "If she can't, we can for sure go somewhere else to talk—" "Oh, whatever!" Gabby sighed. "Even if it is my brother, a part of me still wants to hear about it! Just don't make it too gross, please." Didn't anyone need an ambulance???? Usually they had an abundance of early calls. "Okay, fine." She conceded. "We went to get ice cream—" "God, that's freakin cute." Stella interrupted. Sylvie rolled her eyes. "Then we just walked around the city, talking and whatever." She tried to make it sound vague, but couldn't hide the big smile appearing on her face. "Anything else?" Stella asked. Gabby was staying silent, but she was intrigued as well. "Um....we held hands...." Stella didn't have much of a reaction to that, it was clear she wanted something more juicy. "...and we made out outside of my apartment building." Sylvie added. Gabby made a face, while Stella waggled her eyebrows. "And then....?" "Please don't go any further!" Gabby moaned, starting to cover her eyes. "Nothing else happened!" Sylvie quickly assured her two friends. "We both agreed that since it was our first date, we shouldn't jump right in, you know?" She explained. "Like how you jumped him the week before?" Gabby dryly said, which made Stella let out a shriek. "Okay, that-that was—" Sylvie stuttered, knowing she had no way of explaining that. "That was a special occasion..." "You going to my brother's apartment on a random Tuesday night to seduce him was not a special occasion." As God specifically was coming to safe her, the alarm went off above them, calling for ambulance 61. She let out a sigh of relief, dashing out to the garage, knowing that Gabby would be more than happy to drop the subject. But she knew that she had to at least acknowledge the whole awkward situation Gabby was in, how her partner slash friend was with her brother. "Sorry that you had to hear all of that." Sylvie apologized as they got into the ambulance. "I know this is weird for you, and I appreciate that you're handling it well." "I can't lie to you, it's really weird. Like really weird." Gabby confessed as she pulled out of the garage and onto the street. "But if you two are happy, then I can't really complain, you know?" Sylvie nodded. She couldn't complain either, about anything really. With her great job, friends, and now a new relationship, things were only looking up for Sylvie Brett.

[keyofshadows]

Mostly out of context and in no particular order.

Someone tell Henry to stop turning into Sora. Also Wendy is making me think of Namine. So who does that make Pan? Wait, Marluxia!

I keep wanting to cry happy tears and hug chibi Sora into little bits and this has Maya and Kai all upset- well, Maya's squeaking at Sora's cuteness and kinda spazzing over 'Can you imagine if Kai HAD been Riku's son' and we're not getting into that mess and Kai's just mostly upset because he misses his family damn it, even if he has friends where he is and a kid brother.

And hi, rambling because FEELS.

AUUUGH.

I've gone weird again.

Ahahaha, and the bad ideas keep coming. I wrote out a thing for the mods seeking permission for Heartless-related stuff. Haven't sent it yet 'cause I might be sane come morning. That and Kai's borderline freaking out. Something about not wanting his mother's past to be his future. Maybe I really just want an excuse to have a weird AU KH/WR crossover where Ray kicks his ass for training Shadows as minions.

Meanwhile Eli and Fen just sit on the sidelines and snicker.

I wanna go home and laugh at the trouble Kai's gotten into. Or not. I giggled earlier and was exhausted for 20 mins. But still, Kai just found out he's fucking with a 3,000 yr old spirit born of darkness. Somehow this is not phasing him as much as it should. He's either very much his mother's son (with all the issues that entails) or Riku and Sora rubbed off on him. Or he really IS Riku's, but Maya can dream. It's better than the truth, anyway.

Random 1 am thought: Eli as a kid, boasting to all his friends that he was kidnapped by an evil faerie before he was a year old and turned into a kitten.

"And she replaced me with a fake baby that turned inta sticks when my mama blew out my birthday candle! Isn't that NEAT?"

Amy: /facepalm Lanie: /jealous

"How come Eli gets ta do all the fun things?"

Eli: /smiiiirk

So I got this started during a low-pain point in my migraine, and Eli can't stop snickering. Despite the migraine Kai's post got me thinking. 'The last time...' in reference to wishing his dad was there. 'The last time he'd built a snow fort like this, it'd been in Christmas Town. His uncle had taken him and his dad to see Santa, when Kai was on the edge of not believing anymore. He was, after all, seven. His mom had stayed home, insisting she'd not only get a stocking full of coal, but would probably find herself buried under it.'

And she would've, too.

When someone introduces themselves as serving under a king, it's appropriate to use 'Keyblade wielder' after your own name, yes? Yes. Inwardly Kai's just like '.....fuuuuuck.' This was not how he wanted to become known to Henry. 'Yeah, I kinda adopted your adopted son as my kid brother, I swear I'm not a bad influence on him and I'm so sorry I attacked your knight unprovoked. Please don't have me executed.'

Newsflash: Kai doesn't know how to keep his mouth shut.

'They're kind of cute when they're not trying to eat your face.' - Best description of Shadows ever.

OMG it's so cold in this house why do I not know Firaga. Or where my gloves are. Or my scarf. Or hat. Assuming there's any money left next month I'm buying socks. I have...five pairs of socks? That don't have holes. And I'm not sure where three of them are. I'm wearing one and the other is...in my dresser. I think. Lol I'm totally on top of where my stuff is. This is why cleaning my room is bad. I can find my floor but nothing else. Ever. This'll be Eli someday. Only able to find things when they're strewn across his room. And he'll like it that way! "But mom, all great warriors have messy rooms! Uncle Sora told me so!" And you KNOW Larkin'll be the only one that can make him clean it properly. Threats and bribes. Though both may be the same thing.

Right in the middle of one of Xehanort's speeches and I got a migraine. I'm kinda disappointed.

Re: OUAT and hearts - DUDE HOW DOES THAT EVEN WORK and Hello WR flashbacks. Also re: next week's ep and swords being present at a baby's birth - Yes, I imagine Jalen was armed when Eli was born.

That random idea I had a few days ago involves what Awiergan's supposed to be doing, you know, hunting down Mal's nobody and knifing her. She's certainly had prime opportunities to do it, what with her current masquerade. Amy and Jalen's wedding anniversary is the 5th this month, and I wanted Amy to be back to herself by then, however temporary. THEN I thought, hey, what if Awiergan went out, found the nobody, brutally killed her, and let Amy watch? The shock of that would be enough to let Amy push the Brat back under, and she could come home covered in blood freaking out. To who, I dunno yet. But hey, happy anniversary!

Um, what was the original plan for the Cornerstone of Darkness? And I vote we destroy Disney Castle. As in the whole world. Dunno what exactly that'd mean for the Cornerstone of Light, but hey. The one place everyone trusts to always be a refuge against the Darkness going bye-bye? Always a good time! *whacks Awiergan*

Eli insists on a new tradition = New Year's Day Bug Hunts. Every New Year starting from age 8, he's gonna spend the day looking for the weirdest, most colorful bugs he can find. He demands that Larkin accompany him and carry his jars. >>; I do not see that ending well for him. "I only asked her to carry seven jars! An' then she dropped 'em! Down a hill! WITH MY BUGS IN 'EM. THEY ROLLED INTO THE POND AND 'MOST DROWNED!"

...The last time I had a *really* awesome and entertaining idea, it was a plague that wiped out two-thirds of Hogwarts.

This kid is gonna be in so much trouble. Eli: "....Aunt Song, Larkin won't stop followin' me! She says she's gotta protect me from Heartless!" Amy: *snickers forever* "Good luck with that. This is why we don't pretend that Igor is real sweetie~"

I decided Lanie gets to learn magic from Ray too, because she'll need to help keep her brother in line. God forbid her best spell turns out to be Thunder.

Yay babies. Oh god, a three year old and a newborn why did I do this to Amy oh wait. *cackle*

I had this cute little dream where Auryn wakes up crying (He's like a week old) and Eli gets to him first, and is trying to calm him down so he doesn't wake Larkin 'cause she needs her rest, and god forbid his mom, 'cause he'll never get to hold his son again. *snicker* He finally gets the kid to pass out by putting Igor in the crib by Auryn's feet, then makes the comment, "Yeah, he was my favorite too."

Hahaha so adorable and sappy and damn it, men should not be attractive when wounded. (And this is where Jalen's eyebrows go into his hair because what conversations has he been missing)

And then there was that time that healing magic was backfiring and Jalen was stupid and fell off the bailey wall and broke his wrist, and instead of his wife going 'Oh, my Jale!' and cuddling him silly, she whacked him upside the head, gave him a lecture, and teased him for a week. *snort* But then, they have an weird relationship that'll be sure to amuse their children for years to come. Hell, it's amusing FEN.

Ahahaha. I love how Kai is all '.....How do I explain this?' Because apparently he was taught the honor thing but not exactly the why of it? Or he's just a dork. Let's go with that. Eli says that girls can take care of themselves, but you should at least make the attempt unless you want to get beat up. Speaking from eventual experience, no doubt. Also I love how that last sentence makes no and yet all the sense.

I've always sympathized with the villains. Maleficent was the first. I was four. *shifty eyes* I was a weird kid.

The game I've got Kai in is getting an expansion. The school's going to be revealed to be on an island. I'm happy. Kai on the other hand, not so much. Reminders of not-home and places he'd been with 'Jem, which are probably gonna lead to him hitting things with his Keyblade. Especially once he finds his Corridors STILL can't get him away from the damn place.

Suppose Kai could always just try and use his Keyblade to chop 'em up...and this is for a bonfire, actually, though I did think him trying to make a raft in an attempt to leave the island would be all sorts of funny and history sorta/not really repeating itself, but I gotta get mod permission for that first and I'll just shut up now.

Yay, they have access to the beach now. And someone else decided to try a raft, which I'm actually glad about. >_> Kai will instead make an idiot of himself trying to catch fish. And the 'here fishy fishy' is a ridiculous inside joke from the old game that I couldn't resist using even though no one will get it. Riku had a net and was out tromping through the shallow water on Destiny Islands, trying to catch dinner for himself, Sora, and Kairi. He finally managed, but he burned dinner afterward. *snerk*

Oops. Kai wants to know what the fuck I just got him into. *cackles madly* Hell if I know. I've got Eli on the sidelines lecturing him on Darkness. And Fen pointing out he should consider himself lucky he's never met Ray. *facepalm*

Yeah, so if the wyvern doesn't kill Kai, he's gonna take Eli's advice and call him Yen Sid. ...My muses should not be allowed to interact sometimes. Also now I've got Jalen snickering because hmm, who did he know that had problems with a wyvern? *facepalms forever*

Re: 'Driel - And why doesn't this kid have fear? She's a nine year old on her own in a strange place, and they had a 3-4 day blackout already, but she's just...peachy. Lonely for her family, sure, but she's met a 700 year old faerie that shifts into a wolf, a boy that's possessed by a 3,000 yr old malevolent spirit, a king from the 15th century, and now friggin' Death, and she's just hunky dory. This IS a good thing, yes?

IT'S LARKIN AND ELI LMAO Today, I was hanging out with a guy I like. We climbed a tree to watch the sunset, and as the sun went down, I kissed him. He fell out of the tree. FML